"INJUN" 

and 

"WHITEY" 

STRIKE  OUT  FOR 
THEMSELVES 


I  111  AM  S,  HART 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


AN   INDIAN   STEPPED   OUT  AND   COVERED  THEM  WITH   HIS 

GUN  (page  174) 


THE  GOLDEN  WEST  BOYS 

INJUN  AND  WHITEY 

STRIKE  OUT  FOR 

THEMSELVES 

BY 

WILLIAM  S.  HART 

AUTHOR  OF 

INJUN  AND  WHITEY, 
INJUN  AND  .WHITEY  TO  THE  RESCUE,  ETC. 

ILLUSTRATED  BY 

HAROLD  CUE 


GROSSET    &    DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS  NEW    YORK 


Made  in  the  United  Sutei  of 


COPYRIGHT,  1931,  BY  WILLIAM  S.  HART 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


PREFACE 

Across  the  sky  were  fleeting  clouds  which  seemed 
to  blend  in  with  the  thoughts  of  a  boy  that  stood,  his 
hands  clasped  in  the  hand  of  his  father,  on  a  small 
station  platform  in  the  Dakota  Territory  in  the 
early  eighties. 

As  the  boy  stood  silent  and  afraid,  waiting  for  the 
big  giant  of  the  rails  that  was  to  come  and  take 
him  far  away  from  the  country  of  which  he  was  a 
part,  he  could  hear  the  cluck  of  the  prairie  chickens 
as  they  walked  unmolested  within  fifty  yards  of  the 
station;  he  could  see  a  mile  distant  a  low  line  of 
poplars  that  fringed  in  yellow  waves  the  young 
river  that  leapt  down  the  gorge  and  smiled  in  happi 
ness  as  it  passed.  He  could  see  along  the  great  line 
of  the  horizon  wild  geese  flying  swiftly  south,  for  it 
was  the  late  fall  of  the  year  when  the  buffalo  grass 
sighed  and  looked  from  right  to  left  waiting  for 
Nature,  the  Boss  Reaper,  to  come  along  and  take 
her  toll.  He  could  see  the  red  sun  wending  its  down 
ward  course  where  it  was  to  set  alone  in  silence, 

iii 


625074 


PREFACE 

O  God!  the  greatness ;  the  bigness  of  it  all!  That  tre 
mendous  prairie  was  the  only  mistress  this  boy 
would  ever  know. 

Then  there  came  to  the  boy  a  seeming  vibration 
in  the  air  as  though  Nature  was  trembling  and 
knew  not  why.  But  it  was  the  giant  of  the  rails  that 
was  coming.  It  was  the  end. 

"Dad,  aren't  we  ever  coming  back?"  asked  the 
boy. 

"/  don't  know,  son.  Only  God  knows  that." 

And  the  giant  came,  and  the  boy  went  away,  and 
the  poplars  waved,  and  the  river  smiled,  and  the 
boy  never  did  come  back  —  but  he  is  trying  to  now 
through 

THE  AUTHOR 


CONTENTS 

I.  A  TELEGRAM 
II.  THE  BOYS  GIVE  A  PROMISE 

III.  A  FOREST  FIRE 

IV.  A  MYSTERIOUS  ADVENTURE 
V.  ANOTHER  MYSTERY 

VI.  ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  INDIANS 
VII.  CAUGHT 
VIII.  THE  GOLD-MINE 
IX.  JOHN  BIG  MOOSE 
X.  A  DANGEROUS  MISSION 
XL  CROWLEY 
XII.  TREED  BY  A  GRIZZLY 

XIII.  A  FRIEND  INDEED 

XIV.  CROWLEY'S  GET-AWAY 
XV.  IN  ENEMY  HANDS 

XVI.  BILL  JORDAN  RETURNS 
XVII.  PEDRO'S  ESCAPE 
XVIII.  INJUN'S  NOBLE  LOYALTY 
XIX.  WHITEY  FIGHTS  PEDRO 
XX.  THE  REWARD  OF  BRAVERY 
XXL  THE  RESCUE  PARTY 
XXII.  WHITEY'S  SURPRISE 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

AN  INDIAN  STEPPED  OUT  AND  COVERED  THEM  WITH 
HIS  GUN  Frontispiece 

WHITEY  MADE  A  GRAB  FOR  A  SMALL  BUT  TOUGH 
SHRUB  64 

INJUN  FACED  HIM,  READY  TO  SLASH  AT  THE  PAWS  IF 
THEY  FOUND  A  HOLD  136 

THE  LUST  OF  BATTLE  WAS  IN  HIS  VEINS  218 

Drawn  by  HAROLD  CUE 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY 

STRIKE  OUT  FOR 

THEMSELVES 


CHAPTER  I 

A  TELEGRAM 

"WELL,  if  that  isn't  hard  luck,"  said  Whitey 
Sherwood,  disgustedly,  as  he  went  over  and 
leaned  against  a  post  of  the  corral,  "then  I'd  like 
to  have  somebody  tell  me  what  is!" 

To  those  who  have  followed  the  adventures  of 
Injun  and  Whitey  in  the  first  book  of  "The 
Golden  West  Series,"  it  will  be  remembered  that 
they  had  planned  to  explore  the  wild  region  over 
beyond  Moose  Lake,  where  they  had  succeeded 
in  capturing  Pedro,  after  a  desperate  struggle 
in  the  waters  of  the  lake  and  had  brought  him 
back  to  the  ranch,  and,  eventually,  had  secured 
the  reward  offered  for  his  capture.  When  they 
had  mentioned  their  intention  to  Bill  Jordan, 

I 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

the  foreman  of  Mr.  Sherwood's  ranch,  he  had 
immediately  become  interested  in  the  expedition. 
Bill  had,  at  one  time,  been  a  gold  prospector,  and 
once  the  lure  of  gold-hunting  gets  into  a  man's 
system,  it  is  hard  to  get  it  out,  and  it  usually  re 
mains  with  him  until  the  end  of  his  days. 

Bill  had  shown  them  a  piece  of  gold  ore,  which, 
singularly  enough,  had  come  from  this  very  re 
gion;  although,  he  had  added,  lest  the  boys 
might  imagine  that  they  could  walk  over  there 
and  locate  a  mine  any  afternoon,  "This  here 
piece  o'  ore  is  prob'ly  th'  only  chunk  o'  gold  the 
good  Lord  ever  put  in  them  mountains!  No 
body's  ever  bin  able  t'  find  any  more  of  it,  an' 
prospectors  has  bin  givin'  th'  place  th'  go-by  fer 
th'  last  ten  years." 

But  as  the  main  object  of  the  boys'  expedition 
was  not  the  finding  of  gold,  but  rather  adven 
ture,  they  were  not  particularly  discouraged. 
What  they  were  looking  for  was  excitement,  in 
any  form  that  it  might  present  itself;  though,  of 
course,  if  a  good,  healthy  gold-mine  came  along, 
they  would  probably  stop  long  enough  to  pick 
it  up. 

2 


A  TELEGRAM 


But  now,  the  whole  project  seemed  to  have 
been  knocked  in  the  head.  Mr.  Sherwood, 
Whitey's  father,  had  been  called  East  to  attend 
to  some  business,  and  had  left  Whitey  in  Bill 
Jordan's  charge;  and  while  Bill  wasn't  by  any 
means  a  strict  disciplinarian  and  allowed  Whitey 
to  do  about  as  he  pleased,  yet  he  considered  that 
it  was,  perhaps,  inadvisable  to  allow  two  fifteen- 
year-old  boys  to  go  alone  into  so  wild  a  region 
as  that  beyond  Moose  Lake.  And  for  this  reason 
he  decided  to  accompany  them.  The  ranch,  as 
Bill  said,  was  a  good  deal  of  "a  pianola  proposi 
tion  "  —  it  ran  itself.  Walker,  one  of  the  hands, 
was  a  most  capable  man  to  fill  Bill's  shoes,  for  a 
time,  at  least;  and  then,  probably,  not  the  small 
est  of  the  reasons  that  induced  Bill  to  decide  to 
accompany  the  boys  was  the  itching  he  had  to 
get  back  into  the  prospecting  game,  even  if  but 
for  a  few  days. 

The  cause  of  Whitey's  disgusted  exclamation 
was  a  telegram  which  had  just  been  handed  to 
Bill  within  a  few  hours  before  the  expedition  was 
scheduled  to  start.  It  was  from  Mr.  Sherwood, 
in  New  York,  and  requested  Bill  to  take  the  first 

3 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

train  for  the  East  to  help  him  in  some  negotia 
tions  in  regard  to  the  ranch  business. 

Judging  by  the  look  on  Bill's  face  he  was 
about  as  disappointed  as  the  boys,  and  he  stood 
for  a  moment,  the  telegram  in  his  hand,  thinking 
it  over. 

"Wai,"  drawled  Bill,  "I'll  say  it  is,  too!  But 
orders  is  orders,  you  know,  an'  when  the  Boss 
fiddles,  we  all  gotta  dance,  whether  we  like  the 
tune  er  not!  I  ain't  none  too  stuck  on  roamin' 
'round  thet  Big  Camp-on-the-Subway,bein'  some 
nervous  an'  timid  like.  Them  tall  four  an'  five- 
story  buildin's  never  looked  t'  me  t'  be  safe, 
an'  th'  sidewalks  does  shore  hurt  my  feet!" 

"Were  you  ever  East  before,  Mr.  Jordan?" 
asked  Whitey,  grinning. 

"Sure,"  said  Bill,  with  a  blase  air;  "I  was  way 
back  East  as  fur  as  Cheyenne,  one  time.  But  I 
didn't  cotton  to  it  none  —  no  effete  civilization 
like  they  got  in  Omaha  an'  them  places  fer  mine ! 
Me  an'  th'  West  .is  wedded,  an'  when  I  git  on 
that  train  I'll  feel  like  I  was  elopin'!  I  ain't 
gonna  feel  comf'table  fer  a  minnit,  messin' 
'round  'mong  them  hoss-cars  an'  Henry  Fords 

4 


A  TELEGRAM 


an'  p'leecemen  an'  sech.  It's  takin'  too  many 
chances  fer  a  man  like  me,  an'  I  won't  feel  real 
safe  till  I'm  back  here  runnin'  down  cattle- 
rus'lers  er  breakin'  hosses,  er  mebbe  extermi- 
natin'  grizzlies  an'  rattlers." 

Under  ordinary  circumstances  Whitey  would 
probably  have  laughed  at  Bill's  idea  of  safety, 
but  he  couldn't  raise  anything  more  than  a 
sickly  smile  on  this  occasion. 

Injun  stood  near  by,  and  gave  vent  to  no  ex 
pression  of  disappointment  either  in  his  face  or 
by  words;  that  is  an  Indian's  way,  and  he  is 
seldom  very  demonstrative;  but  there  could  be 
no  doubt  that  he  didn't  like  the  turn  matters 
had  taken.  The  going  into  the  wilds  was,  to  him, 
an  everyday  affair,  and  had  been,  almost  since 
his  infancy.  He  had  always  taken  care  of  him 
self  and  he  would  have  no  misgivings  about 
riding  into  the  mountains  beyond  Moose  Lake 
alone.  But  he  felt  that  with  Whitey  the  case  was 
different,  though  he  couldn't  quite  understand 
it.  White  folks  have  a  lot  of  strange  ideas  about 
boys,  anyway,  according  to  Injun's  way  of  think 
ing,  as  he,  himself,  was  beginning  to  find  out. 

5 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

When  the  reward  of  two  thousand  dollars  for 
the  capture  of  Pedro  had  been  paid  to  the  boys, 
Bill  Jordan  had  been  appointed  the  Indian  boy's 
guardian  to  care  for  his  share,  which  was  a 
thousand  dollars.  Of  course,  Injun  had  no  idea 
of  the  value  of  money  and  would  have  scattered 
it  to  the  winds  in  no  time  had  the  disposal  of  it 
been  left  to  him;  probably  a  thousand  dollars' 
worth  of  red  flannels  or  fish-hooks  would  have 
been  his  idea  of  getting  the  worth  of  his  money! 
But  Bill  Jordan  and  Mr.  Sherwood  had  con 
sulted  about  the  boy's  future,  and  had  deter 
mined  that  the  bulk  of  it  should  be  used  for 
Injun's  education  at  Carlisle  or  some  other  good 
school. 

It  was  natural  that  Bill,  being  guardian  of  the 
boy's  money,  should  extend  a  little  of  his  guard 
ianship  to  the  boy's  person  as  well.  For  Injun 
was  popular  with  the  ranchmen,  not  only  be 
cause  he  was  a  likable  boy  and  Whitey's  pal,  but 
because  of  the  great  service  he  had  rendered 
them  at  one  time  or  another.  And  so,  in  addi 
tion  to  being  Injun's  "banker,"  Bill  acted  in  a 
parental  way,  too.  Bill  did  not  believe  in  for- 

6 


A  TELEGRAM 


bidding  a  boy  to  do  things;  his  method  was  to 
reason  it  out  with  him  and  show  him  why  a  cer 
tain  course  was  either  good  or  bad  —  then  let 
the  boy  decide  for  himself.  (I  am  not  saying 
whether  this  is  the  right  way  or  the  wrong  way  — • 
every  parent  or  guardian  must  decide  that  him 
self;  but  if  results  count  for  anything,  it  seems 
to  me  a  pretty  good  way.) 

So  the  three  sat  out  by  the  corral  and  looked 
at  each  other.  At  length  it  seemed  to  Whitey 
that  Bill  might  be  waiting  for  a  suggestion,  and 
a  faint  hope  revived  within  him. 

"I  suppose  that  settles  our  going,  doesn't  it, 
Mr.  Jordan?"  he  asked. 

"Wai,"  said  Bill,  slowly,  "I  dunno.  What  do 
you  think  about  it?  I  don't  like  to  say  y'  can't 
go.  Fact  is,  I  guess  I  ain't  got  no  right  t'  say 
it!  Yo're  yer  own  boss  —  I'm  only  actin'  in  a 
'dvis'ry  c'pacity,  like  I  said  when  yo'r  pa  went 
East.  I  will  say  thet  there's  a  heap  o '  onciviliza- 
tion  out  there  'mong  them  mountains  over  be 
yond  Moose  Lake.  Why  don't  yo'  all  ride  over 
to  th'  junction  an'  get  'bout  two  dollars'  wo'th 
o'  lollypops  an'  go  an'  set  into  a  movin'-pitcher 

7 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

show  instead?  Now  th'  las'  time  I  was  over 
there,  I  seen  a  swell  pitcher — it  was  all  about  a 
fluffy-ruffles  liT  gal  thet— " 

"Well,  we've  taken  pretty  good  care  of  our 
selves  up  to  date,  haven't  we?"  interrupted 
Whitey,  ignoring  the  lollypop-moving-picture 
proposition. 

"Wai,"  said  Bill,  deliberating  for  a  time,  "out 
side  o'  causin'  me  an'  yo'r  pa  to  sprout  a  consid- 
er'ble  crop  o'  goose-flesh  an'  gray  hairs  'count  o' 
bein'  oneasy  in  our  minds,  I  reckon  yo'r  record's 
fair  —  better 'n  some,  mebbe."  And  to  Whitey's 
practiced  eye,  Bill  seemed  to  show  signs  of 
weakening. 

"We  didn't  get  the  worst  of  it  when  we  tackled 
Ross  and  the  rustlers;  nor  with  Pedro,  either! 
We  aren't  going  to  run  up  against  anything 
worse  than  that.  We  aren't  going  to  go  up  and 
kick  a  grizzly  in  the  ribs  or  try  to  twist  a  moun 
tain  lion's  tail  just  to  hear  him  yowl !  And  after 
my  experience  with  rattlers,  I'm  not  going  to  try 
to  make  a  pet  of  one!  What  else  is  there  that 
can  hurt  us?  Besides,  if  somebody  has  to  go  with 
us,  why  can't  Walker  or  Charley  Bassett  go?" 

8 


A  TELEGRAM 


"Oh,  Lord!"  said  Bill,  hastily,  grinning  at 
Walker,  who  stood  near  by,  "Walker  an'  Bas- 
sett  ain't  nuthin'  but  two  innercent  an'  do-cile 
growed-up  men,  an'  'twouldn't  be  fair  to  use 
'em  all  up  follerin'  yo'  two  r'arin'  catamounts 
into  all  kinds  o'  dangerous  peril  an'  sech !  Have 
a  heart!  Them  two  men  was  brung  up  pets  an* 
ain't  used  t'  bein'  spoke  harsh  to  an'  treated 
rough  an'  all  like  thet!" 

"Yes,"  said  Whitey,  with  a  grin,  "Walker  and 
Bassett  are  a  couple  of  delicate  little  things!" 
(Both  men  were  more  than  six  feet  tall  and 
weighed  in  the  neighborhood  of  a  hundred  and 
ninety!)  "It  would  be  a  shame  to  subject  them 
to  any  hardships  following  Injun  and  me!  Please 
forget  it,  Mr.  Jordan !  What  I  want  to  know  is, 
do  we  go,  or  don't  we?" 

"Wai,"  said  Jordan,  slowly,  "it's  like  I  said 
first-off  —  I  ain't  sayin'  y'  can't.  I  dunno  but 
I'm  runnin'  a  heap  more  resk  goin'  down  t'  Noo 
Yawk  'mong  them  hossless  hoss-cars  an'  railroads 
set  up  on  top  o'  sticks,  an'  th'  hull  place  chuck 
full  o'  financeers  an'  pick-pockets  an'  Republi 
cans!  Whut  do  yo'  think  'bout  it,  Walker?" 

9 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

"Who?  Me?"  said  Walker,  as  he  rolled  a 
cigarette.  "'F  yo'  askin'  me  whut  I  think,  I 
think  Fd  a  heap  sight  ruther  hev  th'  kids' 
chanst  'n  I  would  yo'rn.  Them  boys'll  come 
through  'ith  spangles  on  'em;  but  some  galoot '11 
take  yo'  'fore  yo'  bin  in  th'  Big  Town  long 
'miff  t'  register.  'F  them  Fo'ty-Second  Street 
pirates  gits  word  yo're  comin',  I  kin  see  'em 
gittin'  out  the  gol'  brick  an'  polishin'  'er  up,  an' 
workin'  overtime  printin'  oil-stock  an'  green- 
goods  circ'lars.  'Tain't  no  hundred  t'  one  some 
o'  them  smooth  guys  don't  sell  yo'  th'  keys  t' 
Central  Park!" 

"Was  yo'  speakin'  frum  experience?"  asked 
Jordan,  innocently. 

"Wai,"  answered  Walker,  after  a  pause,  look 
ing  skyward,  and  blowing  out  a  big  whiff  of 
smoke,  "  'twouldn't  s'prise  me  none  'f  we  hed  a 
fine  day,  t'-morrer,  mebbe." 

"Haw,  haw!"  laughed  Bill,  as  he  softly 
hummed : 

"The  Bowery!  The  Bowery! 
I'll  never  go  there  any  more! " 

"Wai,"  Bill  went  on,  "now  't  yo've  warned 

JO 


A  TELEGRAM 


me,  I  won't  buy  no  keys  t'  no  parks,  ner  no 
near-gold  bricks,  ner  no  oil-stock ;  an'  'f  I  kin  only 
remember  not  t'  blow  out  th'  gas  an'  not  walk 
no  place  but  in  th'  middle  o'  th'  road,  mebbe 
I'll  come  through  'thout  losin'  my  back  teeth." 

"Bill,"  said  Walker,  solemnly,  "the'  's  guys 
in  Noo  Yawk  c'n  steal  th'  vest  off'n  yo'  while 
yo'  got  a  overcoat  on!" 

"Haw!  I'll  fool  'em!"  laughed  Bill.  "They 
can't  pull  thet  one  on  me,  anyhow !  I  don't  wear 
no  overcoat ! " 

"Yeah!  I  know!"  said  Walker.  "I  s'pose 
thet'd  make  it  harder!  An'  'f  yo'  was  t'  stick 
yo'r  head  in  th'  sand  like  a  ostrich,  they  couldn't 
see  yo'  neither?" 

"All  very  interesting,  if  true,"  said  Whitey, 
"but  what  about  Injun  and  me?  Do  we  go?" 

"Son,"  said  Bill,  "an'  yo',  too,  Lo,"  looking 
at  Injun,  "yo'  all  hes  heard  Walker  tell  how 
calam'ty  an'  deestruction  overtakes  them  as 
rushes  in  where  fools  dares  t'  tread,  as  the  Good 
Book  says.  Yo'  all  jest  heared  how  this  here 
Walker  person  done  rushed  int'  Noo  Yawk  an* 
they  slipped  him  th'  work  an'  he  cum  away  frum 

II 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

there  a  heap  sadder,  but  'tain't  likely  he  was  no 
wiser  —  him  bein'  thick  an'  hard  t'  learn.  So,  ef 
in  th'  face  of  a  harrowin'  an'  heart-rendin'  narra 
tive  like  his'n,  yo'  all  is  plumb  sot  on  lammin' 
over  t'  them  mount'ns,  I  ain't  th'  one  t'  say  yo' 
nay.  Ef  yo'  all  done  cast  th'  dice,  th'  bet  goes  as 
she  lays." 

"I  reckon  all  them  languages  he  jes'  spilled 
means  fyes,'"  said  Walker.  "Bill  is  shore  some 
prodigal  when  it  comes  to  sheddin'  parts  o' 
speech' —  some  folks'd  call  it  bein'  windy." 

"I've  took  notice  frequent  thet  folks  as  never 
hed  no  eddication  whatsumever,"  said  Bill, 
looking  haughtily  at  Walker  and  winking  at 
the  boys,  "is  jellus  of  an'  scoffs  at  them  as  hes." 

"Is  thet  so?"  drawled  Walker.  "Why,  I  seen 
a  fellow  down  t'  San  An  tone  thet  had  a  eddicated 
hog  c'd  give  yo'  cyards  an'  spa — •" 

"Jim,"  said  Jordan,  playfully  jamming  Walk 
er's  hat  down  over  his  eyes  and  ducking  a  swing 
that  the  latter  made  at  him,  "  I  can't  set  here  an' 
listen  to  none  o'  yo'r  fambly  hist'ry,  tho'  I'm 
glad  t'  know  one  of  'em  was  eddicated,  even  'f 
he  did  live  in  San  An  tone!  I  gotta  go  an'  see 

12 


A  TELEGRAM 


'bout  gittin'  these  here  two  Ramrods  grub 
staked  fer  the  trip." 

"Haw!"  roared  Walker,  sarcastically.  "Ram 
rods,  eh?" 

"Whut's  th'  matter  'ith  'Ramrods'?"  asked 
Bill.  "Thet's  whut  they  call  hunters,  ain't  it  — 
Ramrods?  Somethin'  t"  do  'ith  a  gun,  ain't  it? 
An'  they  use  guns  fer  huntin',  don't  they?" 

"Thet  eddicated  hog  down  t'  San  An  tone  tol* 
me  'twas  'Nimrods,'"  said  Walker;  "an'  hue- 
cum  yo'  t'  set  yo'se'f  up  t'  compete  'ith  him?" 

"I  reckon  yo'  an'  th'  hawg wins,  Walker,"  said 
Bill,  scratching  his  head;  "mebbe  'tis  'Nimrods,' 
now  't  I  cum  t'  think  of  it;  but  not  havin'  yo'r 
nacheral  advantages  o'  knowin'  hog-talk,  I  guess 
I'll  hev  t'  take  my  hat  off  t'  yo'  an'  yo'r  friend." 

And  before  Walker  could  think  of  a  hot  come 
back,  Bill  had  gathered  a  boy  under  each  arm, 
and  was  hurrying  toward  the  ranch  house. 


CHAPTER  II 
THE  BOYS  GIVE  A  PROMISE 

IT  took  but  little  time  to  complete  the  outfit  for 
the  boys,  only  such  food  being  selected  as  was 
compact  and  substantial,  but  there  was  enough 
of  it  to  last  about  three  weeks.  Whatever  they 
were  to  eat  in  addition  to  this  they  must  get  for 
themselves  from  the  woods  and  streams.  One 
change  which  Bill  Jordan  suggested  and  which 
was  quickly  adopted  by  the  boys  was  the  sub 
stitution  of  larger  caliber  rifles,  a  30-30  taking 
the  place  of  the  former  .22;  and  in  addition  to 
this,  a  shot-gun  for  small  game,  and  two  .38  cali 
ber  six-guns  were  added.  The  equipment  was 
securely  strapped  upon  the  back  of  a  sturdy 
pack-horse,  and  the  expedition  was  ready  to 
start. 

The  ranchmen  gathered  around  to  give  the 
boys  a  send-off,  and  many  were  the  suggestions 
made  and  much  advice,  good  and  bad,  given  to 
them. 

"Now,  remember,"  said  Walker,  "'f  a  grizzly 


THE  BOYS  GIVE  A  PROMISE 

gits  yo'  all  treed,  jes'  send  me  a  postal-cyard, 
an'  I  '11  come  over  an'  give  yo'  all  a  hand ! " 

"Well,"  promised  Whitey,  grinning,  "if  a 
grizzly  does  get  both*of  us  up  a  tree  at  the  same 
time,  I'll  telegraph  you  by  wireless!" 

"'Tain't  likely  yo'  all'll  run  acrost  our  ol* 
friend  Pedro  over  there,"  said  Charley  Bassett, 
who  came  up  at  that  moment,  having  just  ridden 
in  from  town;  "but  'f  yo'  do,  bring  him  back  an* 
we'll  photograft  him  ag'in,  like  we  done." 

"Whut  d'  y'  mean  ' photograft  him  ag'in'?" 
asked  Jordan.  "Pedro's  in  jail,  waitin'  t'  be 
hung." 

"Not  so's  y'  could  notice  it,  he  ain't!"  said 
Bassett,  dryly.  "He  were  —  a  few  days  ago  — 
but  he  kissed  'em  all  good-bye  an'  vamoosed. 
'Pears  like  they  can't  find  hide  ner  hair  o'  the 
skunk!" 

"Is  there  another  reward  offered  for  his  cap 
ture?"  asked  Whitey,  eagerly.  Injun,  too,  moved 
up  closer;  he  was  as  much  interested  as  any  one; 
perhaps  more  so,  as  it  was  against  him  that 
Pedro's  wrath  had  first  been  directed. 

"Wai,  will  y'  listen  t'  thet  there  kid!"  ex- 
15 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

claimed  Bill  Jordan.  "An'  look  at  this  other  one 
edgin'  in!  l Are  there  any  reward  offered !'  Can 
y'  beat  it?  I  b'leeve  them  two  kids'd  start  right 
out  now  an'  try  tj  corral  thet  hombrey  'f  I  was 
t'  let  'em — which  I  ain't !  Thet's  one  place  whar 
I  puts  my  foot  down!  'F  yo'  all  don't  promise 
me  yo'  won't  go  messin'  'round  'ith  thet  varmint, 
right  here's  where  th'  hull  expedition  ends!" 

"Well,  if  we  did  run  across  him,  oughtn't  we 
to  go  get  him  and  bring  him  in?"  asked  Whitey. 
"  It  looks  to  me  as  though  it  would  be  more  dan 
gerous  to  try  to  avoid  him  than  it  would  be  to 
go  get  him." 

"  Yo'  said  somethin', kid! "commented  Walker. 
"But  'f  yo'  meets  up  'ith  him,  don't  waste  no 
time  capturin'  him — settle  him,  right  thar! 
Like  we  should  'a'  done  when  we  had  him,  'f  it 
hadn't  'a'  bin  fer  ol'  Law-an '-Order  here!"  look 
ing  reproachfully  at  Jordan.  "Now,  it's  gotta 
be  all  did  over  ag'in ! " 

(It  will  be  remembered  that  the  ranchmen, 
Walker  in  particular,  were  anxious  to  lynch  Pe 
dro  when  Injun  and  Whitey  captured  him  and 
brought  him  back  to  the  ranch.  But  Jordan  had 

16 


THE  BOYS  GIVE  A  PROMISE 

interfered  and  prevented  this,  claiming  that  Law 
and  Order  must  be  preserved.) 

"I  done  whut  was  right,  an'  yo'  know  it, 
Walker!"  said  Bill,  a  little  hotly.  "Th'  trouble 
is  with  them  jail-people  • —  they  must  be  a  fine 
outfit  t'  let  thet  bird  giv'  'em  th'  slip!  But  thet 
ain't  neither  here  ner  thar  —  th'  p'int  is,  these 
here  kids  has  got  t'  gimme  their  word  they 
won't  go  lookin'  fer  th'  critter!  O'  co'se  'f  they 
meets  up  with  him,  th'  onlies'  thing  t'  be  did  is 
t'  plug  him  first — then  they  kin  go  an'  capture 
him  all  they  want!  I  dunno's  I  oughta  let  'em 
go  a-tall,"  he  added,  doubtfully. 

Alarmed  at  this  latter  remark,  Whitey  hastily 
promised  that  they  would  not  seek  a  meeting 
with  Pedro,  and  he  turned  to  Injun  for  corrobo- 
ration;  but  Injun  seemed  in  no  hurry  to  comply, 
but  sat  stolidly  on  his  pinto  and  grimly  fingered 
the  lock  of  his  rifle. 

"Me  plug  'im!"  he  growled. 

"Hurrah!"  shouted  Bassett.  "Yo'  plug  him, 
kid,  an'  plug  him  good ! " 

"Ef  thet  kid  starts  out  to  git  Pedro,  I'll  take 
a  ticket  on  th'  kid,"  announced  Walker.  "He 

17 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

knows  more  ways  o'  trailin'  an'  hidin'  an'  am- 
bushin'  an'  all  sech  'n  Pedro  er  his  hull  fam- 
bly'll  ever  know ! " 

"Mebbe!"  said  Jordan,  with  firmness  and  de 
cision.  "But  jest  recollect  t'  remember  thet 
Whitey's  with  him.  'F  yo*  was  t'  giv'  Injun  an* 
Pedro  a  gun  apiece  an'  turn  'em  loose  in  th* 
mount'ns,  I  hain't  a  doubt  Injun'd  git  him 
shore.  But  —  I  don't  intend  fer  them  two  to 
do  no  stalkin'  an'  capturin*  o'  thet  pizen  critter, 
an'  thet  settles  it!  'F  they  runs  onto  him- —  an' 
'tain't  't  all  likely  they  will  —  Pedro's  done  beat 
it  North —  all  right —  let  him  have  it,  pronto! 
Empty  them  guns  into  his  pizen  carcass  an'  then 
climb  a  tree  an'  set  thar  fer  'bout  a  hour.  'F  he 
don't  make  no  move  by  thet  time,  come  down 
frum  th'  tree  an'  beat  it  th'  other  way's  fast 
as  yo'  kin  leg  it.  Them's  my  instructions!  But 
as  fer  startin'  out  an'  tryin'  deliberate  t'  cross  his 
trail  —  nuthin'  doin'!  An'  yo'  all  gotta  promise 
me  thet,  er  th'  start  o'  this  here  trip  is  apt  t'  be 
delayed  right  consider'ble!  Is  it  a  bet?" 

After  some  urging  on  Whitey's  part,  Injun 
grudgingly  agreed  that  he  would  not  seek  a 

18 


meeting  with  Pedro,  and  this  satisfied  Jordan. 
But  it  was  certain  that  neither  of  the  boys  would 
avoid  a  meeting  with  the  man,  and,  in  fact,  would 
welcome  it.  And  ifc  was  not  altogether  without 
misgivings  that  Jordan  saw  the  boys  start.  In 
fact,  had  it  not  seemed  probable  that  Pedro  had 
made  for  Canada,  or  some  equally  distant  place, 
it  is  doubtful  if  Bill  would  have  given  his  per 
mission  at  all.  The  entire  region  roundabout 
knew  of  Pedro  and  his  doings,  and  his  only  hope 
of  safety  lay  in  getting  as  far  away  as  possible. 
One  reason  only  argued  that  the  man  might  re 
main  in  the  vicinity,  and  that  was  his  deep  and 
abiding  thirst  for  revenge;  but  Jordan  figured 
that  Pedro  would  forego  even  that  when  it  could 
be  had  only  at  so  great  a  risk. 

"Don't  fergit  to  bring  back  something"  Bill 
called  to  the  boys  as  they  rode  out  of  the  corral. 
"Even  a  real  good  gold-mine'll  do!"  he  added. 

"Sure  thing!"  Whitey  answered.  "You  told 
us  to  bring  back  something  when  we  went  out 
before,  and  we  did.  And  I  guess  we  can  again  — • 
even  if  it's  nothing  more  than  a  gold-mine!  That 
ought  to  help  some!" 

19 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

"Is  them  kids  aimin'  to  go  prospecting  Bill?" 
asked  Walker,  grinning.  "  I  didn't  see  no  pros- 
pectin'  outfit." 

"No,"  said  Bill,  a  little  ruefully,  "I  was  goin' 
to  do  thet.  They  was  speakin'  'bout  gold-mines 
t'other  day,  wonderin'  'f  the'  was  any  over  t' 
th'  mount'ns,  and  I  got  all  het  up  'bout  it  —  th' 
old  fever  come  back  on  me,  and  I  shore  would 
'a'  like  t'  went.  But  this  here  telegraft  put  th' 
kibosh  onto  it.  They're  jest  roamin'  'round 
studyin'  'bout  how  much  mischief  they  kin  git 
into.  I  dunno's  I  had  oughta  let  'em  go,"  he 
added,  doubtfully,  after  a  pause,  "but  I  hated 
t'  say ' no,'  at  th'  last  minnit,  they  bein'  so  sot 
onto  it." 

"Shucks!"  laughed  Walker.  "'F  I  was  you, 
I  'd  be  a  heap  sight  more  worried  'bout  goin'  to 
Noo  Yawk  'n  I  would  be  'bout  them  boys.  The' 
ain't  no  more  danger  in  them  goin'  into  th' 
mount'ns  'n  the'  is  ef  yo'  an'  me  went." 

"Wai,"  said  Bill,  "I  sort  o'  figgered  it  thet 
way,  too;  but  I  don't  like  this  idee  o'  Pedro  bein' 
loose.  The'  ain'  no  tellin'  whar  thet  skunk's 
li'ble  t'  show  up." 


CHAPTER  III 
A  FOREST  FIRE 

"WELL,"  said  Whitey,  as  he  threw  back  his 
shoulders  and  took  a  deep  breath  of  the  fresh 
air,  "here  we  are  at  last!  I  never  would  have 
believed  these  mountains  were  so  far  from  the 
ranch!" 

It  was  well  along  toward  evening  of  the 
second  day's  ride;  they  had  left  the  grassy 
plains  far  behind  and  were  now  among  the 
rocky  gorges  and  knobs  that  furrowed  and 
roughened  the  base  of  the  mountain-range. 
They  had  decided  to  camp  in  a  thick  patch  of 
trees  under  the  shadow  of  a  tall  and  slightly  over 
hanging  cliff,  near  which  ran  a  small  but  very 
rapid  rill  that  tumbled  and  splashed  its  shallow 
way  toward  the  plains,  interrupted,  here  and 
there,  by  a  series  of  falls  like  steps  of  varying 
heights.  And  although  it  lacked  two  hours  or 
more  of  sunset,  in  the  long  shadow  of  the  cliff 
it  seemed  almost  like  twilight  and  there  was  a 
distinct  chill  in  the  air.  The  horses  had  been 

21 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

hobbled  and  turned  loose,  and  Injun  soon  had 
a  fire  going;  and  in  a  few  moments  the  appetiz 
ing  odors  of  frying  bacon  and  boiling  coffee  per 
meated  the  air.  "Hunger  is  the  best  sauce,"  and 
the  boys,  tired  from  their  long  ride,  fell  to  like 
a  couple  of  longshoremen,  and  soon  both  plates 
and  cups,  although  replenished  more  than  once, 
were  empty.  Whitey  washed  the  pans  and  skillet 
in  the  stream  while  Injun  got  out  the  blankets; 
for  although  it  was  not  yet  dark,  both  boys  were 
entirely  willing  to  tumble  in.  Roll  in  would, 
perhaps,  express  it  better;  for  the  boys  had  noth 
ing  more  in  the  way  of  a  bed  than  the  thick, 
soft  moss,  and  rolled  themselves  in  their  blankets 
upon  it. 

For  a  time  they  lay  and  watched  the  stars 
come  out,  one  by  one,  until  the  whole  heavens 
were  ablaze,  and  then  sleep  closed  their  eyes. 
What  better  bed  could  any  one  ask?  They  were 
bedded  upon  old  Mother  Earth!  To  Whitey  it 
was  new  because  he  was  an  alien,  but  to  the  In 
dian  boy,  although  unknown  to  him,  it  was  part 
of  his  nature,  part  of  the  birthrights  of  his  people. 
The  plains  Indians  are  born  upon  the  ground. 

22 


A  FOREST  FIRE 


Old  Sitting  Bull,  a  great  chief  and  medicine  man 
of  the  Sioux  Indians,  just  before  his  death,  owned 
a  log  cabin  and  a  befl  —  yet  he  went  outside  and 
spread  his  blanket  upon  the  ground  knowing  that 
death  was  near.  And  who  can  deny  but  that 
much  of  the  Indians'  rugged  nature  is  gained 
from  this  contact  with  Mother  Earth  ?  I  am  not 
advocating  this  custom  for  white  people  because 
they  are  not  accustomed  to  it,  and  I  would  not 
advise  sleeping  upon  the  ground  unless  common 
sense  is  used  because  there  is  an  after-effect  for 
those  whose  constitutions  rebel.  It  is  called 
rheumatism. 

Two  days  in  the  saddle,  over  such  country  as 
the  boys  had  traversed,  will  put  a  few  kinks  in 
the  muscles  of  even  a  hardened  plainsman;  but 
the  night's  rest,  in  contact  with  Mother  Earth, 
and  a  cold  bath  in  the  little  stream  that  tumbled 
down  past  the  glade,  put  the  boys  in  fine  fettle. 
And  if  anything  was  necessary  to  make  it  finer, 
the  corn-bread,  bacon,  and  coffee  supplied  it. 

"Gee!"  said  Whitey,  as  he  took  the  last  piece 
of  bacon  from  the  skillet  and  put  it  on  his  birch- 
bark  plate,  "seems  to  me  you're  mighty  stingy 

23 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

with  the  rations!  To-morrow  morning  I'm  going 
to  do  the  cooking." 

Injun  grinned  and  made  no  objection  —  in 
fact,  he  would  probably  have  been  willing  that 
Whitey  should  cook  all  the  time.  The  job  of 
camp-cook  is  not  altogether  an  enviable  one,  and 
Injun  was  not  a  very  hearty  eater.  He,  like  most 
other  Indians,  was  a  good  deal  of  a  philosopher, 
and  he  seemed  to  be  able  to  adjust  his  appetite 
to  the  supply.  If  there  was  plenty,  all  right. 
If  there  was  nothing  —  all  right,  too!  And  what 
was  more,  he  could  go  a  much  longer  time  than 
any  white  boy  with  nothing  to  eat  at  all.  No 
doubt  he  had  had  considerable  practice  at  this; 
for  in  his  long  wanderings  he  was  always  depend 
ent  upon  his  own  efforts  for  food ;  and  many  and 
many  a  time  he  had  lain  down  at  night  with  no 
comfort  for  his  stomach  but  a  tightened  belt. 

The  boy  was,  like  all  his  race,  stoical  and  re 
served;  he  might  be  almost  starving  and  no  one 
would  have  guessed  it.  He  would  come  into  a 
white  man's  camp  or  lodge,  ravenously  hungry, 
and  if  he  were  not  urged  to  "sit  in,"  or  if  they 
were  at  all  unfriendly,  he  would  have  watched 

24 


A  FOREST  FIRE 


the  others  eat  without  betraying  the  slightest 
desire  to  partake. 

This  characteristic  was  and  is  by  no  means 
uncommon,  however,  in  many  parts  of  the  West, 
nor  is  it  confined  to  Indians.  Many  a  white  man 
would  and  will  do  the  same  thing;  and,  possibly, 
that  is  the  reason  why,  in  Western  camp  or  home, 
city  or  wilds,  something  to  eat  is  offered  the  ar 
riving  guest  immediately.  He  has  usually  come 
a  long  way,  and  probably  is  hungry  —  but  seldom 
so  hungry  that  he'll  ask  for  food. 

"There!"  said  Whitey,  as  he  drained  the  last 
drop  of  coffee  from  the  tin  cup,  and  threw  it 
playfully  at  Injun,  who  ducked  adroitly,  "I 
guess  I  can  live  till  noon!  Where  do  we  go  from 
here?" 

Injun  pointed  up  the  mountain,  and  began 
to  gather  together  the  few  utensils  that  they 
had  used  at  breakfast.  This  done  he  carefully 
stamped  out  the  still  glowing  embers  of  the  fire 
until  not  a  spark  remained. 

"Why  do  we  go  up  the  mountain?"  asked 
Whitey.  "  So  that  we  can  see  how  the  land  lies  ?  '* 

Injun  nodded.  The  boys  had  no  knowledge  of 
25 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

the  vast  region  that  lay  beyond  the  ridge,  and  it 
was  necessary  to  do  a  little  exploring  in  order 
to  locate  a  suitable  permanent  camp  or  head 
quarters.  They  knew  there  were  numerous 
streams  and  some  lakes,  but  they  had  to  be  found 
—  that  was  part  of  the  fun.  If  you  know  exactly 
what  you  are  going  to  find  over  a  ridge  or  at  the 
end  of  a  gorge,  much  of  the  fascination  of  a  trip 
of  this  kind  is  gone.  In  traversing  the  unknown 
wilds  there  is  a  surprise  at  every  turn  that  gives 
zest  to  the  explorer  and  impels  him  to  keep  on  to 
see  what  lies  beyond.  There  is,  also,  the  joy  and 
exultation  that  high-spirited  boys  or  men  feel  in 
matching  their  powers  against  Nature's  obstacles. 
It  would  have  been  futile,  on  account  of  the 
horses,  to  have  proceeded  straight  up  the  moun 
tain.  Such  a  course  would  inevitably  have  land 
ed  them  in  serious  difficulties,  and  would  have 
meant  very  hard  work.  So  Injun  skirted  the  base 
of  the  mountain,  gradually  ascending  like  the 
spiral  of  a  screw,  and  picking  the  way  carefully. 
Occasionally  they  were  forced  to  make  wide  de 
tours  to  avoid  a  sheer  cliff  or  a  deep  gorge,  but 
generally  managing  to  keep  in  their  intended  di- 

26 


A  FOREST  FIRE 


rection.  By  noon  they  had  reached  a  point  high 
up  the  mountain  from  which  the  country  to  the 
northwest  lay  spread  out  like  a  panorama  before 
them. 

The  valley,  some  ten  miles  wide,  seemed  like  a 
deep  cut  between  the  two  ridges.  Here  and  there 
they  caught  the  gleam  of  the  blue  waters  of  a 
small  lake,  and  down  the  sides  of  the  hills  swift 
and  narrow  streams  splashed  and  tumbled.  Over 
the  greater  part  of  the  landscape  the  timber  was 
thin;  but  there  were  patches  of  wood,  some  of 
them  many  miles  in  extent,  and  increasing  in 
density  as  they  neared  the  valley. 

For  a  long  time  Whitey  stood  fascinated  by  the 
scene.  The  air  was  so  clear  that  objects  at  great 
distances  were  clearly  outlined. 

"Gee!"  he  exclaimed,  "I'll  bet  there  is  plenty 
of  game  around  here !  It  doesn't  look  as  though 
anybody  had  ever  set  foot  in  this  region." 

Injun  grinned;  and  for  an  answer  he  pointed 
to  a  spot  in  the  valley  on  the  extreme  right  of 
where  they  stood,  and  possibly  four  or  five  miles 
away.  Whitey  followed  the  direction  of  Injun's 
finger,  and  was  able  to  make  out  a  thin  ribbon 

27 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

of  blue  smoke  that  rose  straight  up  into  the 
air. 

"What  is  that — somebody's  camp-fire?" 
asked  Whitey. 

Injun  shook  his  head,  and  continued  to  regard 
the  smoke  intently;  and  as  the  two  boys  watched 
the  smoke  could  be  seen  to  increase  in  volume. 
In  a  few  moments  a  small  tongue  of  flame  shot 
up  above  the  tree-tops  and  the  smoke  darkened 
a  little. 

"It  must  be  a  forest  fire!"  said  Whitey,  ex 
citedly.  "The  wind  is  blowing  this  way,  too! 
With  everything  as  dry  as  it  is  it  ought  to  be 
some  fire!  How  do  those  things  start?" 

Injun  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "Mebbe  white 
man  go  'way  leave  camp-fire.  Mebbe  can't  tell 
—  jes'  start." 

"Spontaneous  combustion,  eh?" 

Injun  looked  at  Whitey  dazedly  and  reproach 
fully.  Why  pull  anything  like  that  on  him? 
"Dunno,"  he  said. 

It  was  Whitey's  turn  to  grin  —  he  wasn't 
exactly  sure  that  he  knew,  himself. 

"Why  do  you  say  'white  man'  left  his  fire  and 
28 


A  FOREST  FIRE 


it  spread  ?  Don't  Indians  ever  go  away  and  leave 
afire?" 

Injun  shook  his  head  decidedly.  "Injun 
don't." 

"Like  you  did  this  morning,  eh?  There  didn't 
seem  to  be  any  danger  of  our  fire  spreading," 
said  Whitey,  as  though  he  felt  that  Injun  was 
inclined  to  be  over-cautious. 

Injun  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  pointed  at 
the  fire  which  was  spreading  rapidly.  "Mebbe 
white  man  think  like  dat  too,"  he  said.  "Fores' 
fire  bad  med'cine!" 

"Bad  medicine"  is  right — as  any  one  who 
has  ever  been  mixed  up  in  a  forest  fire  will  testify. 
In  the  dry  season  of  the  year,  at  which  time  a 
forest  fire  almost  invariably  occurs,  it  spreads 
with  incredible  rapidity.  After  it  has  gained  a 
certain  headway,  trees,  and  whole  patches  of 
trees,  upon  which  it  would  seem  no  particle  of 
spark  had  lit,  burst  into  flame  like  a  powder  mag 
azine  set  off  by  electricity.  In  some  way  the  fire 
leaps  gaps  and  crosses  water  over  long  distances, 
and  it  goes  hard  with  any  man  or  any  thing  that 
is  caught  within  the  possible  area  of  its  extent. 

29 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

Few  people  have  any  idea  of  how  fast  a  forest 
fire  or  a  prairie  fire  spreads.  It  might  be  supposed 
that  an  active  man,  knowing  that  the  fire  is 
approaching,  could  easily  get  out  of  its  reach; 
but  often  such  is  not  the  case,  and  he  is  out 
stripped  and  overwhelmed.  The  fire,  itself,  is  as 
appalling  as  it  is  irresistible.  Beasts  flee  from  it 
in  the  utmost  terror  and  panic,  forgetting  all 
else  than  the  idea  of  escape.  The  mountain  lion 
bounds  along  beside  the  rabbit,  and  the  timber 
wolf  beside  the  fawn,  and  neither  gives  a  thought 
to  the  other!  Men  at  long  distances  from  the  fire 
have  been  saved  by  this  very  fact.  The  rush  of 
the  denizens  of  the  wood  goes  past  them  • —  even 
an  animal's  fear  of  man  is  disregarded  • —  and  the 
woodsman  knows  what  this  means  and  he  seeks 
safety. 

And  here,  too,  that  mysterious  thing,  animal 
instinct,  plays  a  great  part.  In  some  way  most 
animals  —  perhaps  all  —  have  a  sort  of  sixth 
sense  —  the  sense  that  warns  them  of  danger. 
They  do  not  need  to  see  or  hear  or  smell  it  — 
they  simply  know!  No  freak  of  Nature,  however 
sudden  —  an  earthquake,  a  volcanic  eruption,  a 

30 


A  FOREST  FIRE 


tidal  wave,  a  cloudburst,  or  a  forest  fire  —  comes 
upon  them  unwarned !  They  seem  to  know  it  in 
advance!  This  is  no  guesswork  with  them.  Hours 
before  an  earthquake  or  a  volcanic  eruption,  ani 
mals  have  been  known  to  leave  the  spot  to  be 
affected.  Before  an  unusually  long  and  severe 
winter,  the  bees  store  up  more  honey  and  the 
squirrel  lays  up  a  much  larger  quantity  of  feed 
than  usual.  The  beaver  builds  a  warmer  home, 
and  the  migration  of  the  birds  toward  the  south 
begins  earlier.  The  wisdom  of  the  groundhog  as 
a  weather  prophet  is  pretty  well  acknowledged. 

"  For  beast  and  bird 

Have  seen  and  heard 
That  which  man  knoweth  not." 

Any  time  a  man  gets  chesty  and  begins  to  think 
that  he  knows  it  all,  let  him  get  out  on  to  the 
plains  or  the  desert  or  into  the  mountains,  and 
see  how  he  feels  about  it  then ! 

As  the  boys  watched,  the  column  of  smoke  that 
rose  straight  up  into  the  air  not  only  became 
denser  and  darker,  but  it  began  to  lose  its 
columnar  shape  and  to  broaden  and  spread  until 
it  became  almost  a  curtain.  The  tongues  of 

31 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

flame  became  more  and  more  vivid  and  frequent, 
and  the  area  of  the  fire  greater  and  greater,  and 
the  spread  was  toward  them. 

"Great  Day!"  said  Whitey.  "It  can't  pos 
sibly  get  as  far  as  this,  can  it?"  he  asked. 

But  getting  no  reply  from  Injun,  he  turned 
and  found  that  the  latter  was  not  standing  be 
side  him,  but  had  gone  back  to  where  the  horses 
had  been  left,  under  the  brow  of  a  cliff  and  en 
tirely  out  of  sight  of  the  fire.  Whitey  hastened  to 
join  him,  and  found  Injun  tethering  them  all 
securely  to  a  tree.  Whitey  was  somewhat  aston 
ished,  for  he  knew  that  Injun's  pinto  never 
needed  this,  whatever  his  own  horse,  Monty,  or 
the  pack-horse  might  require. 

"What's  the  idea?"  asked  Whitey. 

For  reply  Injun  simply  shrugged  his  shoulders 
and  took  an  extra  hitch  in  the  lariat;  and  Whitey 
saw  that  all  the  animals  were  unquestionably 
nervous  and  restless  and  apprehensive,  the  pinto, 
if  anything,  more  so  than  the  others. 

Then  it  dawned  on  Whitey.  "Can  you  beat 
that?"  he  asked,  in  wonder.  "Here  those  horses 
are,  out  of  sound  or  sight  or  smell  of  the  fire, 

32 


A  FOREST  FIRE 


and  yet  they  know  about  it!  I  guess  youVe  got 
to  hand  it  to  a  horse  i" 

"You  see  plenty  animal  soon,"  said  Injun, 
enigmatically.  "You  come!" 

Injun  led  the  way  back  to  where  they  had 
stood  but  a  few  moments  before,  and  Whitey  was 
aghast  at  the  headway  that  the  fire  had  gained. 
It  had  spread,  not  only  laterally,  so  that  it  now 
encompassed  an  area  nearly  a  mile  in  width,  but 
it  had  approached  them,  before  the  wind,  far 
more  than  that  distance. 

Within  a  short  time,  too,  Injun's  prophecy 
was  fulfilled  —  the  rush  of  animals  had  begun. 
Through  the  sparse  timber  below  them  many 
animals  could  be  seen  in  a  mad  race  for  safety, 
and  the  air  was  filled  with  flying  birds.  First 
came  the  rabbits,  foxes,  and  some  smaller  ani 
mals,  in  a  wild  scramble  and  scurry,  with  an 
occasional  deer  that  outstripped  them  all  with 
great  bounds  that  often  measured  twenty  feet. 
Two  mountain  lions  followed,  making  a  few 
bounds,  and  then  stopping  and  turning  their 
heads  to  look  back  spitefully,  and  then  leap  on 
again.  In  their  wake  lumbered  a  bear  in  a  busi- 

33 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

nesslike  way,  paying  no  attention  to  what  went 
on  around  him,  but  devoting  all  his  energies  to 
putting  as  great  a  distance  between  himself  and 
the  fire  as  he  could.  With  a  few  exceptions  the 
animals  were  all  making  for  the  upland  where  the 
timber  became  thinner  as  the  top  of  the  ridge 
was  approached. 

"Gee!"  said  Whitey,  all  excitement.  "The 
fire  is  driving  the  game  toward  us !  Shall  we  take 
a  crack  at  something  if  it  gets  near  enough  ? " 

Injun  shook  his  head.  "No  hurt  him  when  he 
in  trouble  —  bad  medicine!"  he  said.  "We  run, 
too!"  and  turned  to  go  back  to  where  the  horses 
had  been  left. 

"What  for? "  asked  Whitey.  " It  doesn't  seem 
possible  that  the  fire  can  reach  us  here!"  he  pro 
tested. 

But  Injun  knew  better.  They  were  by  no  means 
above  the  timber-line  of  the  mountain,  for  their 
spiral  climb  had  taken  them  little  more  than  half 
way  to  the  summit.  And  while  the  cliff  on  which 
they  stood  overlooked  the  valley  and  was  high 
above  the  tree-tops  immediately  below  them,  yet 
if  the  fire  should  happen  to  get  between  them  and 

34 


A  FOREST  FIRE 


the  summit  they  would  be  hemmed  in  so  that 
all  hope  of  escape  would  be  lost. 

Whitey  followed  Injun  to  the  horses,  and  the 
boys  found  them  in  a  state  bordering  on  panic. 
This  alone  was  enough  to  convince  Whitey  that 
the  situation  demanded  action;  and  it  was  the 
work  of  only  a  few  moments  to  let  loose  the  ani 
mals  and  start  on  the  way  up  toward  the  top. 

Even  now  Whitey  could  smell  the  odor  of  the 
burning,  and  the  smoke-cloud,  carried  in  their 
direction  by  the  wind,  had  begun  to  creep  over 
their  heads. 

Encumbered  as  they  were  by  the  horses  it  was 
impossible,  as  before,  to  go  straight  up  the  moun 
tain;  and  Injun  laid  their  course  round  to  the 
southeast,  and  made  the  spiral  a  trifle  straighter 
than  he  had  before  in  the  leisurely  ascent  of  the 
northern  side.  Had  they  wished  simply  to  escape 
the  fire  they  could  have  gone  toward  the  south 
east  and  down  the  mountain;  but  the  boys  had 
no  idea  of  doing  this,  as  it  would  have  meant  the 
abandonment  of  the  expedition.  Injun  felt  sure 
that  the  fire  would  not  cross  the  ridge,  but  would 
be  confined  to  the  northwesterly  and  westerly 

35 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

sides;  and  if  they  got  above  the  timber-line,  they 
could  then  proceed  along  the  top  or  even  the 
easterly  side  of  the  ridge,  to  the  point  where  the 
fire  had  begun,  and  do  their  hunting  and  explor 
ing  there. 

For  two  hours  or  more  they  climbed,  the 
smoke  overhead  getting  thicker  and  thicker  and 
the  smell  of  the  burning  pine  more  and  more  pro 
nounced;  and  finally,  as  they  almost  encircled 
the  mountain,  they  came  to  a  point,  high  above 
the  timber-line,  and  several  hundred  feet  almost 
directly  over  the  point  at  which  they  had  first 
seen  the  fire.  It  was  impossible  to  see  for  any  dis 
tance  on  account  of  the  thick  pall  of  smoke,  and 
it  was  evident  that  the  fire  had  swept  to  the  south, 
even  beyond  the  point  at  which  they  had  first 
stood,  and  that  the  place,  high  and  sheer  as  was 
the  cliff  above  the  valley,  would  be  untenable 
now. 

They  had  not  moved  any  too  soon!  Even 
where  they  now  were,  high  above  the  timber-line, 
the  horses  coughed  and  sneezed  in  the  smoke,  and 
their  own  eyes  watered  with  its  sting.  The  heat, 
too,  was  appreciable,  and  exhausted  as  they  were, 

36 


A  FOREST  FIRE 


Injun  did  not  wait  long  before  starting  the 
march  farther  up  the  mountain  Such  a  course 
would,  perhaps,  entail  some  hardships  —  fodder 
and  water  for  the  horses  cannot  always  be  found 
in  the  higher  altitudes  —  but  it  was  most  un 
comfortable  where  they  were,  and  there  was  al 
ways  escape  by  way  of  the  easterly  slope  in  case 
things  got  desperate. 

High  up  on  the  mountain,  far  above  the  timber- 
line,  and  on  its  westerly  side,  the  boys  camped 
that  night.  Far  below  them  raged  the  fire,  which 
seemed  to  have  spent  itself  far  toward  the  south. 
The  burned  area,  some  six  or  seven  miles  long 
and  from  one  to  two  miles  in  width,  lay  black  in 
the  moonlight,  with  here  and  there  the  glow  of 
the  still  smouldering  embers.  Little  smoke  now 
reached  them,  although  the  pungent  smell  of  the 
burnt  pine  was  still  in  their  nostrils  and  the  sting 
of  the  smoke  still  irritated  their  eyes.  They  were 
fortunate  in  finding  water,  and,  all  in  all,  neither 
the  boys  nor  the  horses  suffered  any  very  great 
inconvenience. 


CHAPTER  IV 
A  MYSTERIOUS  ADVENTURE 

WITH  the  first  streaks  of  dawn  the  boys  were  up 
and  about.  In  the  daylight  the  fearful  ravages  of 
the  fire  were  more  apparent.  Hundreds  of  acres 
of  smouldering  embers,  blackened  stumps,  many 
of  them  still  sending  up  little  curls  of  smoke, 
lay  below  them.  It  was  evident  that  the  burned 
area  could  not  be  crossed  for  many  days.  Small 
streams  that  had  hitherto  been  invisible  on  ac 
count  of  the  foliage  were  to  be  seen  in  the  valley; 
and  far  away  to  the  north,  just  about  where  the 
fire  had  started,  the  lake,  of  which  they  had  been 
able  to  catch  but  fleeting  glimpses,  glistened  as 
the  sunlight  played  upon  its  blue  bosom. 

Fortunately  the  wind  had  been  strong  enough 
to  sweep  the  fire  toward  the  south,  and  it  had 
gained  little  headway  north  of  the  point  at  which 
it  had  its  beginning.  Had  there  been  no  wind, 
or  even  shifting  winds,  there  would  have  been 
no  telling  where  the  fire  would  have  ended  in 
that  direction.  Toward  the  south  the  smoke- 

38 


A  MYSTERIOUS  ADVENTURE 

veil  still  hung  so  thick  that  the  limits  of  the  fire 
could  not  be  discerned  —  if  the  fire  had  indeed 
been  stopped. 

Toward  the  north,  then,  was  obviously  their 
best  course.  Not  only  were  the  woods  about  and 
beyond  the  lake  untouched  by  the  fire,  but,  as 
Injun  pointed  out,  it  would  be  to  that  region 
that  the  hordes  of  game  that  had  been  driven 
from  their  homes  by  the  fire  and  had  taken  ref 
uge  in  the  hills  would  eventually  make  their 
way.  That  ought  to  make  the  hunting  good. 

Down  the  mountain  and  along  the  ridge  to  the 
north  the  boys  made  their  way.  As  they  de 
scended  nearer  to  the  burned  area,  they  found 
that  the  air  was  still  uncomfortable  to  eyes  and 
nose  and  lungs,  but  they  kept  moving,  although 
the  rough  ground  made  their  progress  slow  on 
account  of  the  horses,  but  in  something  less  than 
three  hours  they  came  to  a  point  on  the  ridge 
about  even  with  where  the  fire  had  started,  and 
began  the  descent  to  the  valley  below  in  which 
they  had  seen  the  lake. 

On  several  occasions,  while  on  the  ridge,  they 
had  encountered  animals  that  had  taken  refuge 

39 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

there.  The  animals  were  still  in  a  state  of  panic, 
and  even  had  they  encountered  a  bear  or  a 
panther  there  would  have  been  little  to  fear.  At 
one  point  they  sighted  a  fine  buck.  Whitey  looked 
at  Injun,  and  Injun  said,  "Him  no  trouble  now. 
Him  in  trouble  —  no  shoot!  Him  spirit  come 
into  Injun."  So  Whitey  took  a  shot  at  him;  but 
Whitey  was  the  victim  of  a  mysterious  disease 
called  "buck  fever."  Its  symptoms  are  mani 
fested  in  many  ways;  frequently,  when  aiming, 
the  muzzle  of  the  gun  keeps  going  around  in  a 
circle.  Then  again,  when  suffering  from  it,  a 
man  pulls  the  trigger  on  a  dead-center  shot  — 
only  to  find  that  he  has  not  cocked  his  gun  or 
has  forgotten  to  put  a  cartridge  into  it!  "Buck 
fever"  is  the  cause,  also,  of  a  high  rate  of  mor 
tality  among  guides.  The  guide  doesn't  kill 
himself — the  man  with  the  "fever"  kills  him! 
When  a  hunter  has  a  severe  attack  of  "buck 
fever"  he  is  much  more  apt  to  plug  the  guide 
than  he  is  the  deer.  If  you  don't  think  so,  just 
ask  anybody  who  has  been  a  guide  —  providing 
he  is  still  living! 

"Gee!"  said  Whitey,  disgustedly,  as  the  buck 
40 


A  MYSTERIOUS  ADVENTURE 

went  bounding  away  among  the  trees  after  the 
crack  of  the  Winchester,  "what  was  the  matter 
with  me?  Did  you  see  how  the  muzzle  of  my  gun 
went  'round  and  'round  when  I  was  aiming  at 
him?" 

Injun  grinned;  he  had  never  had  "buck 
fever"  himself.  He  couldn't  afford  to  have  an 
attack  of  it  —  that  is,  if  he  wanted  to  eat  reg 
ularly,  he  couldn't. 

Before  they  left  the  ridge,  however,  and  while 
they  traversed  the  woods  to  the  north  of  the 
burned  district,  the  boys  managed  to  secure  a. 
fair  bag  of  rabbits,  squirrels,  and  partridges, 
thus  insuring  themselves  against  a  dinner  of' 
corn-bread  and  bacon.  Corn-bread  and  bacon 
are  all  right,  but  after  a  man  has  eaten  it  for 
several  weeks  he  doesn't  mind  a  change! 

It  was  not  yet  noon  when  the  boys  came  to  the 
shores  of  the  lake  and  looked  about  for  a  suitable 
place  to  camp.  They  went  northward,  along  the 
eastern  shore,  and  soon  found  an  ideal  spot.  In 
a  small  cove,  sheltered  on  three  sides  by  high 
ground  and  trees,  the  land  sloped  gently  down 
to  the  water,  the  pebbly  beach  making  a  natural. 

41 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

and  convenient  landing.  Here,  too,  was  grass  in 
abundance  for  the  horses ;  and  it  was  with  a  sigh 
of  relief  that  the  boys  unloaded  their  outfit  from 
the  pack-horse  and  threw  themselves  upon  the 
ground  to  rest.  No  doubt  the  pack-horse  felt 
just  as  much  relieved  as  the  boys  did!  At  any 
rate,  he  shook  himself  and  readjusted  his  skin 
in  different  places,  snorted  and  rolled  on  the  soft 
grass  and  kicked  up  his  heels,  which  is  my  idea 
of  how  a  horse  registers  relief. 

"Pipe  the  horse!"  said  Whitey,  as  he  rolled 
over  on  his  back  lazily.  "  I  guess  he  isn't  glad  to 
get  here!  To  tell  the  truth,  he's  got  something 
on  me;  for  he  is  through  and  I've  got  to  do  a  lot 
of  work !  Why  don't  you  take  it  easy,  once  in  a 
while,  Injun?  You  don't  give  a  feller  a  chance  to 
rest  his  bones,  but  start  right  in  hustling  around 
as  though  we  hadn't  a  minute  to  spare.  What's 
the  rush?" 

Injun,  who  was  busily  engaged  in  unpacking 
the  tent  and  clearing  a  space  for  it,  turned  and 
grinned  at  Whitey.  "Me  fix  'um!"  he  said. 

"Yes,  I  know,"  said  Whitey,  getting  up  from 
the  grass.  "You'll  fix  'um,  but  I'm  not  going 

42 


A  MYSTERIOUS  ADVENTURE 

to  let  you  do  it  all.  Here,"  continued  Whitey, 
"  let  me  put  up  the  tent  and  you  take  your  pick 
of  the  game,  and  skin  'em.  I'm  so  hungry  you 
can  make  the  choice." 

Injun  grinned  and  went  at  the  game  dexter 
ously  with  his  hunting-knife;  and  at  about  the 
same  moment  each  of  the  boys  had  finished  his 
allotted  task. 

"  I  don't  know  as  it  would  be  a  bad  scheme  to 
hook  a  nice  bass  for  an  appetizer,"  Whitey  sug 
gested,  grinning  at  Injun.  "Not  that  we  need 
any  appetizer,  but  it  will  make  it  look  more  like 
a  course  dinner.  What  do  you  say?" 

Injun  didn't  know  anything  about  course 
dinners,  but  he  was  already  engaged  in  getting 
out  the  rods  and  tackle  • —  he  understood  what 
"fishin"'  meant. 

"By  the  way,  Injun,"  said  Whitey,  as  they 
went  along  the  shore  of  the  lake, "  can  you  read  ? " 

"Me  ketch  'urn  fish,"  responded  Injun. 

"Sure,"  said  Whitey,  "I  know  that  —  but 
what  I  mean  is,  can  you  read  anything  you  see 
in  print  —  a  newspaper,  for  instance?  I  don't 
ever  remember  seeing  you  try." 

43 


"Know  letters,"  said  Injun.  "A,  b,  c,  d,  e, 
f,  — "  he  said  laboriously  in  a  sing-song  tone. 

Whitey  let  him  finish  the  alphabet,  which  he 
did  correctly.  "Great!"  said  Whitey.  "But  can 
you  put  the  letters  together  —  spell  ?  How  do 
you  spell  cat,  for  instance?" 

"C-a-t,"  spelled  Injun,  after  deep  thought. 

"Well,  what  do  you  know  about  that!"  com 
plimented  Whitey.  "Here' — what  is  this?"  and 
with  his  finger,  he  traced  "DOG"  in  the  sand. 

Injun  examined  it  critically  and  cautiously. 
"Dog,"  he  said,  after  some  deliberation. 

"Say!"  said  Whitey,  "you've  been  under 
cover  with  all  that  education!  Where  did  you 
learn  all  that?" 

"Him  Bill  Jordan,"  said  Injun.  "When  you 
go  sleep." 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  me?"  asked  Whitey,  in 
an  injured  way.  "I  could  have  been  lots  of 
help!"  And  then  he  added,  after  a  moment's 
thought,  "Why  can't  we  do  a  little  studying 
while  we're  out  here?  Say  for  about  an  hour 
after  we  eat  our  supper,  every  night  ?  You  could 
learn  quite  a  lot  if  we  did  that." 

44 


A  MYSTERIOUS  ADVENTURE 

This  was  perfectly  agreeable  to  Injun,  and 
while  the  boys  fished  they  made  plans  for  a  sort 
of  "night-school"  in  the  wilds.  The  fact  that 
they  found  the  fish  of  the  lake  hungry  and  ap 
parently  eager  to  be  caught  did  not  in  any  way 
disturb  their  plan;  and  that  evening,  by  the 
light  of  the  camp-fire  and  of  pine  knots  that 
blazed  in  a  skillet,  the  real  education  of  Injun 
was  begun. 

The  record  of  the  three  weeks  that  followed 
contained  nothing  of  a  remarkable  nature,  with 
one  exception.  The  boys  hunted  and  fished, 
roaming  the  shores  of  the  lake.  Now  and  then 
the  boys  changed  their  camp,  and  on  one  or  two 
occasions  they  made  trips  into  the  mountains 
away  from  the  lake,  and  explored  the  burned 
district  where  they  never  ceased  to  find  exam 
ples  of  woodland  tragedy. 

Whitey  so  far  recovered  from  "buck  fever" 
that  he  managed  to  secure  two  fine  specimens  — 
the  game  laws,  if  indeed  there  were  any,  meant 
nothing  in  either  of  their  young  lives  —  and  they 
were  added  to  the  collection  of  skins  which  they 
had  accumulated  and  which  the  pack-horse  was 

45 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

destined  to  carry.  They  lived  well  on  the  fish 
and  game  that  fell  to  their  bag,  and  altogether 
the  expedition  was  voted  a  decided  success. 

But  as  far  as  excitement  or  danger  went  there 
was  little  of  it.  Even  the  panther  whose  skin  or 
namented  their  pack  had  given  them  no  trou 
ble;  for  a  bullet  from  the  rifle  of  each  of  the  boys 
found  a  vital  spot,  and  he  collapsed  before  he  had 
time  to  spring  and  was  dead  before  he  could  even 
give  them  much  of  a  scare. 

But  there  was  one  occasion  in  which  the  boys 
were  undoubtedly  in  very  great  danger,  and  the 
whole  thing  was  so  shrouded  in  mystery  that 
neither  could  do  more  than  guess  as  to  its  solu 
tion. 

On  one  of  the  trips  back  into  the  mountains 
the  boys  had  scaled  one  of  the  peaks  to  a  point 
perhaps  two  thirds  of  the  way  to  the  summit. 
And  as  they  climbed  it  was  necessary  for  them 
to  pass  along  a  narrow  ledge.  The  ledge  wound 
around  a  sheer  cliff  and  at  some  points  was  not 
more  than  a  foot  in  width.  Below  there  was  a 
drop  of  perhaps  two  hundred  feet.  The  passage 
along  this  ledge  was  necessarily  slow  and  re- 


A  MYSTERIOUS  ADVENTURE 

quired  a  good  deal  of  care  —  about  all  the  at 
tention  that  it  was  possible  to  give  it  —  and  at 
times  they  were  compelled  to  face  the  wall  of  the 
cliff  and  edge  their  way  along  with  their  backs 
to  the  abyss  below  them,  and  holding  on  to  any 
projection  that  the  face  of  the  cliff  offered. 

The  boys  were  close  together,  Injun  in  the 
lead,  and  with  their  backs  to  the  abyss,  when 
the  crack  of  a  rifle  rang  out  from  the  valley  be 
low  and  a  bullet  chipped  a  piece  of  the  rock  near 
to  their  heads! 

To  say  that  they  were  astonished  is  putting 
it  mildly!  They  had  no  idea  that  there  was  a 
human  being  within  fifty  miles  or  more  of  them, 
and  that  there  should  be  one  who  desired  to  kill 
them  was  even  more  amazing.  The  situation  — 
the  peril  —  of  crossing  the  ledge  with  every 
help  that  could  be  given  was  bad  enough;  but  to 
be  on  that  ledge  two  hundred  feet  above  the 
valley  and  have  some  one  shooting  at  you  was 
a  thousand  times  worse! 

"What  do  you  know  about  that!"  gasped 
Whitey.  "  Somebody  is  shooting  at  us ! " 

"You  come!"  said  Injun,  digging  his  fingers 
47 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

into  the  rock.  "Take  time!"  he  added,  knowing 
that  any  undue  haste  would  be  fatal.  Whitey 
set  his  teeth  and  tried  to  think  of  nothing  else 
than  the  passage.  But  before  they  had  gone  ten 
feet  farther  another  shot  sounded,  and  again  the 
bullet  hit  the  face  of  the  cliff  near  them. 

There  remained  some  twenty-five  or  thirty 
feet  of  the  ledge  to  be  crossed  before  they  landed 
on  the  side  of  the  mountain,  and  fortunately  this 
portion  of  the  ledge  was  slightly  wider  and  some 
haste  was  permissible.  They  managed  to  get 
over  this  and  plunged  into  the  timber,  no  other 
shot  being  fired. 

Once  off  the  ledge  the  boys  looked  at  each 
other,  but  neither  could  offer  any  explanation  of 
the  mystery.  They  went  to  the  edge  of  the 
timber  near  the  ledge  and  scanned  the  valley 
closely  for  almost  an  hour,  but  could  detect  no 
movement  of  the  brush  or  among  the  trees. 

"Do  you  think  we  better  go  down  there  and 
investigate?"  asked  Whitey.  "I  don't  like  to 
let  anybody  get  away  with  a  thing  like  that!" 

Injun  thought  it  over.  To  reach  the  valley 
from  where  they  were  would  entail  a  re-crossing 


A  MYSTERIOUS  ADVENTURE 

of  the  ledge,  and  that  risk  seemed  too  great  to 
be  undertaken  at  this  time.  So  they  decided  to 
return  to  the  camp  and  keep  a  sharp  lookout 
during  the  night;  and  to  determine  on  the  fol 
lowing  day  what  course  to  adopt  in  catching 
their  would-be  assassin. 

Neither  of  the  boys  slept  in  the  camp  that 
night,  but  took  turns  watching  as  they  lay  behind 
some  underbrush  a  short  distance  from  the  tent. 

Nothing  happened  during  the  night,  and  no 
intruder  came;  and  morning  gave  no  solution 
to  the  mystery.  Nor  did  the  next  day,  nor  the 
next. 

The  position  of  being  hunted,  especially  by  an 
assassin  that  shoots  at  your  back  and  while  you 
are  in  a  situation  of  extreme  danger  from  other 
sources,  is  not  a  pleasant  one.  And  while  the 
boys  were  by  no  means  frightened  out  of  their 
wits  —  the  fact  that  they  waited  two  days  lon 
ger  disposes  of  that  charge  —  their  stay  was  no 
longer  comfortable.  And  on  the  third  day  fol 
lowing  the  attempt  at  their  lives,  they  packed 
up  and  started  over  the  back  trail. 

No  incident  of  any  kind  marred  the  trip  back, 
49 


and  on  the  evening  of  the  second  day's  travel 
they  once  more  pitched  their  camp  in  the  little 
clump  of  trees  which  they  had  occupied  on  the 
night  of  their  arrival. 

Supper  over,  they  plunged  into  the  "night- 
school"  business,  in  which  Injun  was  making 
great  headway;  and  they  turned  in  early,  pre 
paring  for  their  next  day's  adventure. 


CHAPTER  V 
ANOTHER  MYSTERY 

Bur  it  seemed  to  Whitey  that  he  had  no  more 
than  fallen  asleep  than  a  touch  upon  his  arm 
awakened  him.  In  reality  he  had  slept  several 
hours,  as  a  glance  at  the  sky  told  him;  for  the 
constellations  that  had  been  overhead  in  the 
early  evening  had  swung  far  toward  the  horizon. 
The  tightening  grip  of  Injun's  hand  on  Whitey's 
arm  warned  him  not  to  speak,  and  Whitey  rose 
on  his  elbow,  his  other  hand  grasping  the  rifle, 
and  listened. 

A  little  way  down  the  slope,  not  more  than 
fifty  yards  below  the  thick  patch  of  timber  in 
which  the  boys  were  encamped,  Whitey  could 
hear  the  crunching  of  gravel  and  the  rattle  of 
stones  as  they  rolled  down  the  declivity  dis 
lodged  by  horses'  feet  as  they  passed;  and  judg 
ing  by  the  sounds  a  considerable  number  must 
have  gone  by.  Judging  by  the  sounds,  also,  it  was 
apparent  to  Whitey  that  the  band,  whatever  it 
was,  was  going  into  the  mountains  in  the  same 


general  direction  that  the  boys  intended  to  take. 
The  absence  of  talk  and  of  any  other  sound  than 
that  which  the  horses  made  led  Whitey  to  the 
belief  that  it  was  a  band  of  Indians. 

"Who  are  they?"  he  whispered  to  his  com 
panion. 

"Injun,"  answered  the  boy,  as  he  started  to 
ward  the  edge  of  the  timber  crawling  on  hands 
and  knees,  with  Whitey  following  him  in  the 
same  manner.  As  he  passed  the  horses  Whitey 
realized  that  all  the  caution  in  the  world  on  his 
part  and  Injun's  would  avail  nothing  to  prevent 
discovery  of  their  presence  if  one  of  the  horses 
whinnied.  He  rose  silently  and  stood  by  his  own 
horse,  Monty,  and  discovered  that  Injun  had 
been  awake  for  some  time  before  he  had  roused 
him,  and  had  already  provided  for  this  very  con 
tingency.  Around  each  of  the  horses'  noses  was 
a  thong  which  held  the  horse's  mouth  closed  and 
prevented  the  animal  from  saying  "Good  even 
ing!"  to  a  passing  friend. 

Satisfied  that  there  was  no  danger  of  discovery 
from  this  source,  Whitey  again  dropped  to  the 
ground  and  crawled  to  the  edge  of  the  timber 

52 


ANOTHER  MYSTERY 


at  Injun's  side.  Below  them,  in  the  shadows, 
Whitey  could  make  out  what  looked  to  be  about 
a  dozen  men  —  he  could  not  distinguish  them  to 
be  Indians  at  that  distance  and  in  that  light  — 
some  riding  and  some  leading  their  horses  along 
the  trail.  The  two  boys  watched  them  in  silence 
until  they  were  out  of  sight  and  hearing,  and 
then  Whitey  turned  to  his  companion. 

"What  are  they  doing  here?"  he  asked. 

"Dunno,"  answered  Injun.   "No  good!" 

"You  mean  that  they  are  here  for  no  good 
purpose?" 

Injun  grunted  assent.  "Him  mebbe  steal! 
Dunno!  Fin'  out." 

"You  mean  that  you  are  going  to  follow  them 
and  find  out  what  their,  game  is  ? "  asked  Whitey. 
"How  do  you  know  they  are  'no  good'?  Maybe 
they  are  out  on  a  hunt  of  some  kind?" 

Injun  shook  his  head.  "Injun  no  travel  night 
like  him  'less  do  bad  bus'ness.  Injun  no  hunt 
like  dat  —  him  mebbe  steal.  Mebbe  bust  out. 
No  good!" 

It  was  clearly  evident  that  Injun  was  con 
vinced  that  the  band  of  Indians  were  bent  on 

S3 


some  sort  of  mischief,  and  as  Whitey  knew  that 
the  boy  seldom  erred  in  his  judgment  in  matters 
of  woodcraft,  or  in  those  things  that  pertained 
to  his  own  race,  he  was  not  inclined  to  dispute 
it;  and  he  was  entirely  willing  that  Injun  should 
direct  their  course  of  action. 

"Were  they  Indians  of  your  tribe,  Injun?" 
Whitey  inquired. 

Injun  shook  his  head  decidedly;  the  boys  on 
this  occasion  had  skirted  the  shores  of  Moose 
Lake  and  had  come  into  the  mountains  from 
a  somewhat  northerly  direction.  Had  the  band 
been  Injun's  tribe  he  knew  that  they  would  not 
have  taken  the  long  way  'round  as  the  boys  had 
done  to  get  to  this  point  in  the  mountains. 
Furthermore,  had  there  been  any  such  concerted 
action  contemplated  by  Injun's  own  people  he 
would  have  known  of  it  in  some  way. 

For  some  moments  after  the  band  of  Indians 
had  passed,  Injun  stood  looking  and  listening. 
His  glance  not  only  followed  the  band,  but  he 
also  scanned  the  horizon  as  if  looking  for  some 
thing.  And  in  a  few  moments  his  search  seemed 
to  be  rewarded.  High  up  on  one  of  the  peaks 

54 


ANOTHER  MYSTERY 


to  the  west  a  gleam  of  light  showed,  and  the 
grunt  of  satisfaction  that  Injun  gave  showed 
that  he  had  been  looking  for  some  such  thing  as 
this.  Whitey,  too,  saw  it,  and  turned  question- 
ingly  to  his  companion. 

"What's  that?"  he  asked,  in  an  excited  whis 
per. 

"Dunno,"  said  Injun.  "Mebbe  him  signal  — 
come  same  place!"  added  Injun  with  serious 
ness,  and  as  though  the  matter  was  of  great  im 
portance. 

"You  mean  that  various  bands  of  Indians  are 
meeting  for  some  purpose?  Something  that  they 
intend  to  combine  on?" 

Injun  was  not  sure.  "Dunno,"  he  said.  Then 
he  added,  as  he  started  to  turn  back  toward  the 
camp,  "No  good!" 


CHAPTER  VI 
ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  INDIANS 

IT  was  evident  from  Injun's  manner  that  he  in 
tended  to  follow  the  band  that  had  just  passed, 
and  that  he  did  not  intend  to  use  any  of  the 
horses  in  the  pursuit.  The  spot  where  they  had 
camped  was  an  ideal  one,  in  that  not  only  were 
there  food  and  water  in  abundance  for  the  ani 
mals,  and  which  they  could  get  for  themselves, 
but  it  was  somewhat  off  the  trail,  and  the  thick 
growth  of  timber  furnished  admirable  conceal 
ment.  Injun  hobbled  the  pack-horse  as  well  as 
Monty  and  the  pinto.  In  fact,  it  is  probable  that 
the  pinto  did  not  need  even  these;  for  he  had 
learned  by  long  training  at  the  hands  of  Injun 
that  the  best  thing  he  could  do  was  to  stay 
"where  he  was  put."  Monty,  on  account  of 
several  months  of  close  association  with  the 
pinto,  was  beginning  to  find  out  this,  too. 

The  spring  near  by  and  the  excellent  grazing 
ground  made  it  safe  for  them  to  leave  their 

56 


ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  INDIANS 

horses  even  for  an  indefinite  period,  provided, 
of  course,  they  were  not  molested  by  humans. 
And,  to  the  best  of  the  boys'  knowledge,  they 
were  not  leaving  on  an  extended  trip. 

"What  shall  we  take  with  us?"  asked  Whitey, 
as  he  watched  the  preparations  that  Injun  was 
making. 

"Him  stay  here,"  suggested  the  latter,  al 
though  his  tone  was  not  that  of  a  command  or 
injunction.  Injun  knew  that  Whitey  did  not 
have  his  own  skill  in  trailing  or  in  avoiding  de 
tection,  and  he  felt  that  the  white  boy  would, 
necessarily,  be  subjected  to  many  dangers  which 
were  of  no  moment  to  himself. 

"Yes,"  said  Whitey,  derisively,  "I've  got 
a  photograph  of  myself  sitting  here  with  these 
horses  and  letting  you  have  all  the  fun !  If  you 
think  I'm  going  to  do  that,  you've  got  another 
guess  coming  to  you!  Unless,"  he  added,  a  little 
ruefully,  "unless  you  think  I'm  going  to  be  in 
the  way,  and  may  spill  the  beans  ? " 

For  an  answer  Injun  cut  off  two  big  hunks  of 
bacon  and,  wrapping  them  up  with  two  loaves 
of  bread,  he  handed  one  to  Whitey.  This  done, 

57 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

he  took  up  his  rifle,  revolver,  and  belt,  which  he 
made  sure  was  full  of  cartridges,  as  well  as  the 
magazines  of  his  weapons,  and  he  was  ready  to 
go.  Similarly  equipped,  Whitey  fell  in  behind 
Injun  as  the  latter  made  his  way  swiftly  and 
silently  to  the  edge  of  the  timber. 

Although  there  was  no  moon  the  night  was 
not  one  of  inky  blackness,  and  it  was  an  easy 
matter  for  Injun  to  follow  the  trail  made  by  the 
passing  band.  It  was  necessary  to  exercise  con 
siderable  caution,  however,  for  the  same  light 
that  helped  him  find  and  follow  the  trail  also 
rendered  detection  easier,  especially  as  there 
were  many  open  spaces  to  be  crossed  that  offered 
little  or  no  chance  of  concealment.  And  in  the 
trailing  or  shadowing  of  a  body  of  men  so  alert 
and  vigilant  as  Indians,  Injun  had  his  work  cut 
out  for  him,  especially  as,  on  many  occasions,  he 
must  look  out  for  Whitey  as  well  as  for  himself. 
Not  that  Whitey  was  a  negligible  quantity  by 
any  means,  as  afterward  turned  out;  but  in  the 
matter  of  keeping  his  presence  secret  from  the 
Indians  the  difficulties  were  greatly  increased; 
for  even  were  Whitey  possessed  of  the  same 

58 


ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  TOE  INDIANS 

abilities  as  Injun,  it  is  easier  to  detect  two  "  shad 
ows"  than  one. 

As  far  as  possible  Injun  took  a  course  about 
fifty  yards  from,  but  parallel  to,  the  trail  that 
the  band  had  taken  to  avoid  any  back-tracking 
that  might  occur;  and  to  do  this  it  was  necessary, 
at  times,  to  keep  nearly  abreast  of  the  band  and 
within  hearing  distance;  although,  as  the  chase 
proceeded,  it  became  evident  that  the  Indians 
were  headed  for  that  portion  of  the  mountains 
where  the  fire  had  been  displayed.  As  near  as 
the  boys  were  able  to  judge  this  point  was  some 
ten  or  twelve  miles  distant.  This  enabled  Injun 
to  take  advantage  of  short-cuts  which  were  im 
passable  to  horses,  and  the  boys  had,  at  first,  no 
difficulty  in  "keeping  up  with  the  procession." 

As  the  Indians  and  their  "  shadows  "  went  far 
ther  and  farther  into  the  mountains,  however, 
following  a  parallel  course  the  boys  encountered 
greater  difficulties.  Naturally  the  trail  was  "the 
path  of  least  resistance";  that  is  the  reason  it  was 
the  trail,  for  a  trail,  after  all,  means  simply  the 
easiest  natural  way  of  traveling  through  any 
region.  A  trail  is  not  a  road,  it  is  a  selection  of 

59 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

passable  places.  It  is  not  made;  it  is  discovered 
or  found;  and,  therefore,  it  is  seldom  straight, 
but  winding  and  devious.  Sometimes  there  is 
no  "easiest  way,"  and  then  there  is  no  trail;  and 
each  traveler  picks  his  way  as  best  he  can,  if  he 
goes  at  all.  But  this  happens  only  in  regions  that 
are  almost  entirely  unvisited;  if  there  is  a  reason 
for  people  to  go  to  a  locality  some  kind  of  a  trail 
is  found,  even  if  it  be  difficult  and  roundabout. 
The  region  in  which  the  boys  now  found  them 
selves  was  of  this  character.  There  was  little 
reason  for  any  one  to  visit  it;  prospectors  had 
given  it  the  go-by,  as  Bill  Jordan  had  said,  and 
"the'  wa'n't  much  thar  'ceptin'  rocks,  scenery, 
an'  oncivilization."  Whatever  trail  there  was 
the  band  of  Indians  were  following,  and  for  that 
reason  the  boys  were  obliged  to  find  a  new  way 
of  their  own.  By  this  time  the  moon  had  risen, 
but  if  any  one  imagines  that  this  was  an  easy 
job  —  over  an  entirely  unknown  region,  diffi 
cult  of  passage  even  in  the  daytime,  but  ren-- 
dered  doubly  so  in  the  tricky  moonlight  which 
casts  strange  shadows  and  invests  things  with  a 
certain  unreality  —  let  him  try  it  some  time!  In 

60 


ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  INDIANS 

addition  to  these  physical  difficulties  there  was 
also  the  necessity  of  making  their  passage  noise 
lessly;  not  only  must  yawning  chasms  and  slip 
pery  declivities  be  avoided,  but  stones  and  earth 
must  not  be  dislodged  to  rattle  down  the  moun 
tain-side  and  betray  their  presence  to  the  band 
of  Indians.  Words  of  warning  could  be  uttered 
only  in  whispers,  for  in  those  solitudes  there  is  a 
silence  so  intense  as  to  be  almost  unbelievable 
to  one  who  has  not  experienced  it.  "It  is  so  still 
you  can  hear  it!"  The  slightest  sound  is  audible 
at  incredible  distances,  especially  to  an  ear  that 
is  accustomed  to  this  stillness  as  is  an  Indian's; 
and  in  the  canyons  and  among  the  rocks  are 
natural  whispering-galleries,  where  sound  is  car 
ried  in  an  extraordinary  manner.  In  many  of 
the  canyons  the  report  of  a  shot-gun  sounds  like 
artillery,  and  it  would  be  difficult  to  convince  the 
uninitiated  that  many  guns  were  not  being  fired 
in  rapid  succession.  All  these  things  did  not  con 
duce  to  avoiding  discovery. 

There  is  another  thing,  too,  that  worked 
against  the  boys.  Whitey,  and  Injun,  too,  to  a 
certain  extent,  were  plainsmen  —  that  is,  their 

61 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

experience  in  the  wilds  was  largely  confined  to 
the  plains  —  and  the  craft  of  the  plains  is  a  very 
different  thing  from  the  craft  of  the  mountains. 
Many  a  man  who  is  at  home  on  the  plains  is  at 
a  great  disadvantage  in  the  mountains;  and  this 
is  true  of  the  mountaineer  when  he  finds  himself 
on  the  plains.  The  reason  for  this  is  somewhat 
obvious:  the  plainsman,  "born  in  the  saddle,"  is 
out  of  his  element  in  the  mountains  because  very 
often  he  is  off  his  horse,  and  many  a  sure-footed 
mountaineer  is  not  a  really  good  horseman;  al 
though,  all  through  the  West,  almost  everybody 
whose  life  is  spent  in  "The  Great  Outdoors,"  is 
able  to  ride,  if  only  after  a  fashion.  But  to  get 
back  to  the  boys. 

In  the  first  half-hour  of  the  pursuit,  on  two 
occasions  Whitey  had  missed  his  footing  and  had 
fallen;  one  of  these  falls  was  of  little  consequence 
further  than  to  send  a  few  stones  clattering 
down  the  mountain  when  Whitey  scrambled  to 
retain  his  footing.  This  was  offset,  or  rather  dis 
guised,  by  Injun's  quick  thinking.  The  boy  imi 
tated  the  quick  bark  of  a  fox  and  if  the  Indians 
heard  the  rattle  of  the  stones,  which  was  likely, 

62 


ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  INDIANS 

they  attributed  it  to  the  fact  that  a  fox  had 
startled  some  sort  of  animal,  and  was  either  pur 
suing  it  or  fleeing  from  it  himself. 

The  other  fall  was  of  a  more  serious  character, 
and  but  for  Whitey' s  great  strength  and  agility 
might  have  resulted  disastrously.  In  passing 
along  a  narrow  and  crumbling  ledge,  whether  he 
was  deceived  by  the  tricky  shadows,  or  whether 
the  ledge  simply  crumbled  beneath  him,  the 
boy  slipped  and  slid  over  the  edge.  It  was  a 
sheer  drop  of  something  like  fifty  feet.  In 
stinctively,  Whitey  made  a  grab  for  a  small 
but  tough  shrub  that  grew  out  from  the  side  of 
the  cliff,  some  two  feet  below  the  brink,  and 
caught  this  with  his  left  hand.  Even  in  the  ex 
citement  of  going  over  the  edge  he  had  not  let  go 
of  his  rifle,  and  held  that  in  his  right  hand.  In 
jun,  of  course,  turned  back  quickly,  as  he  had 
heard  the  sound  of  the  slipping  and  the  fall  of 
the  crumbling  ledge;  but  Whitey  was  just  out  of 
reach,  and  the  shrub,  tough  as  it  was,  did  not 
look  as  though  it  would  hold  the  boy's  weight  for 
any  great  length  of  time.  Whitey,  however,  was 
strong  enough  to  pull  himself  up  by  his  left  arm 

63 


alone,  in  the  same  manner  that  a  gymnast  calls 
"chinning  himself,"  until,  by  holding  up  the 
rifle  in  his  right  hand,  Injun  was  able  to  grasp  it 
and  pull  his  companion  up  over  the  edge  of  the 
ledge.  (Boys,  try  "chinning  yourselves"  with 
one  hand  on  a  horizontal  bar,  some  time,  and 
see  how  easy  it  is!) 

There  could  be  no  doubt  that  the  Indians  had 
heard  this  commotion,  for  from  the  ledge  Injun 
could  see  the  band  stop,  and  three  or  four  of  the 
men  start  back  to  investigate.  Injun  threw  him 
self  flat  on  the  ledge  alongside  of  Whitey,  who 
had  not  yet  risen;  and  as  the  Indians  came  nearer 
to  the  base  of  the  cliff,  he  again  imitated  the  bark 
of  the  fox.  This  appeared  to  satisfy  the  investi 
gators,  for  they  knew  that  a  fox  is  inquisitive, 
and  will  sometimes  trail  a  band  of  men  or  other 
animals  for  a  long  distance,  and  they  turned  and 
rejoined  the  band. 

Whitey,  of  course,  realized  that  if  more  of  these 
alarming  mishaps  occurred,  it  might  take  more 
than  all  the  fox-barking  Injun  could  do  to  satisfy 
the  Indians  that  they  were  not  being  followed  by 
human  beings,  so  he  redoubled  his  caution,  and 


WHITEY  MADE  A  GRAB   FOR  A  SMALL  BUT  TOUGH   SHRUB 


ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  INDIANS 

endeavored  to  put  his  foot  down,  at  every  step, 
in  the  exact  spot  that  Injun's  foot  had  just  left. 

"Ain't  I  clever!"  whispered  the  disgusted 
Whitey.  "Just  like  a  cow  on  skates!  If  I  pull 
any  more  of  that  clumsy  stuff  I'll  go  back  to  the 
horses  where  I  belong,  and  let  you  go  ahead 
alone!  I  don't  make  any  more  noise  than  a 
boiler-works ! " 

Injun  had  probably  never  seen  a  cow  on 
skates  or  heard  a  boiler-works,  but  he  knew  what 
Whitey  meant,  and  he  grinned.  He  also  knew 
it  was  inadvisable  to  do  much  talking  unless  it 
were  necessary,  and  he  whispered,  reprovingly, 
"Heap  talk!"  After  that  Whitey  shut  Up  like  a 
clam. 

When  the  Indians  and  their  trailers  had  pro 
ceeded  for  a  distance  of  perhaps  five  or  six  miles, 
and  the  ascent  of  the  mountain  became  contin 
ually  steeper,  it  was  more  and  more  difficult 
to  parallel  the  trail.  At  times  the  boys  were 
forced  to  descend  to  the  same  level  as  the  In 
dians,  and  to  follow  in  the  same  path  that  they 
had  taken,  and  thus  the  danger  of  detection  was 
greatly  increased.  But  there  was  no  other  alter- 

65 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

native,  and  it  was  either  this  or  abandon  the 
pursuit.  The  character  of  the  trail,  too,  had 
made  it  necessary  for  all  of  the  band  to  dis 
mount  and  lead  the  horses;  and  at  a  place  in  the 
trail  Injun  stopped  suddenly  and  peered  at  the 
ground.  There,  in  the  soft  earth,  showing  plainly 
in  the  light  of  the  moon,  were  several  footprints, 
deeply  embedded  and  distinctly  outlined. 

Whitey  gazed  at  them,  but  they  meant  noth 
ing  to  him,  and  he  looked  at  Injun  inquiringly. 

"White  man!"  said  Injun,  laconically. 

"How  do  you  know?"  asked  Whitey.  "Lots 
of  Indians  wear  boots  or  shoes,  don't  they?  I've 
seen  lots  of  them." 

"Injun  toe  in  —  white  man  toe  out,"  said  the 
boy.  "Injun  heel  off  ground." 

Whitey  examined  two  of  the  prints  that  had 
evidently  been  made  by  the  same  man,  and 
there  was  no  doubt  that  the  person  who  took  the 
step  toed  out,  and  that  he  had  dug  his  heels  deep 
into  the  ground. 

"What's  the  idea?"  asked  Whitey.  "Have 
they  taken  somebody  prisoner  and  are  carrying 
him  off  into  the  mountains?" 

66 


ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  INDIANS 

Injun  shook  his  head,  and  pointed  to  an  in 
dentation  that  accompanied  the  footprints  on 
the  right-hand  side  of  them.  This  indentation 
occurred  at  every  two  footprints.  Whitey  ex 
amined  this  indentation  carefully,  and  thought 
for  a  moment. 

"I've  got  it!"  he  exclaimed,  in  a  tone  that 
made  Injun  involuntarily  clap  his  hand  over  the 
white  boy's  mouth.  "Gee!"  whispered  Whitey, 
"I'll  spill  the  beans  yet!  But  here  is  my  dope  on 
this  thing  —  that  little  mark  is  caused  by  the 
butt  of  a  gun  which  the  white  man  carried  in 
his  right  hand  and  used  as  a  cane  to  steady 
himself.  If  he  were  a  prisoner,  he  wouldn't  be 
allowed  to  carry  a  gun!  That's  it,  ain't  it?" 

Injun  nodded;  and  Whitey  felt  that  he  was 
beginning  to  use  his  powers  of  observation.  The 
man  high  up  in  almost  any  occupation  or  craft 
is  little  more  than  the  keen  observer  who  has  the 
intelligence  to  apply  what  he  observes.  It  is 
something  that  anybody  can  cultivate  —  it  can 
be  practiced  at  any  hour  of  the  day  or  night,  if 
you  are  awake.  Glance  into  a  shop-window  as 
you  walk  past,  and  then  see  how  many  things 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

you  can  remember  that  were  in  that  window. 
Pretty  soon  you'll  be  surprised  to  find  that  one 
glance  suffices  to  see  about  everything  there  was 
in  it.  Remember  that  it  pays  to  observe  little 
things;  for  they  are  often  the  forerunners  and 
infallible  signs  of  big  things.  To  an  Indian  or 
to  the  woodsman  a  broken  twig,  recently  roiled 
water,  the  way  smoke  rises  or  hangs  in  the  air, 
the  flight  of  birds,  the  growth  of  the  foliage  and 
moss  on  the  trees,  the  action  of  animals — in 
fact,  the  slightest  departure  from  what  is  usual 
or  normal  has  a  meaning,  and  often  he  deter 
mines  his  course  of  action  from  some  slight  thing 
which  the  ordinary  man  would  not  notice  at  all, 
but  which  has  a  very  great  bearing  on  the  matter 
in  hand.  And  don't  lose  sight  of  the  main  point 
in  any  reasoning.  Don't  be  led  astray  from  the 
issue.  Somewhere  I  have  read  the  story  of  the 
farmer  who  burst  into  the  village  general  store, 
all  excitement.  "What  d'ye  s'pose?"  he  said, 
to  the  usual  crowd  of  "sitters"  around  the 
stove,  "Si  Perkins  seen  a  big  owl  settin'  on  the 
ridge-pole  o'  his  barn,  an'  he  went  in  an'  got  his 
shot-gun  an'  sneaked  up  on  the  owl  an'  let  go  at 

68 


ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  INDIANS 

him,  ker-bang!  An'  the  waddin'  from  th'  gun 
set  fire  to  th'  hay  in  th'  barn  an'  it  done  burned 
down.  An'  th'  house  ketched  fire  from  it,  an' 
they  had  all  they  c'd  do  t'  save  it!" 

The  sitters  about  the  stove  discussed  this 
news  for  a  long  time  —  how  much  Si  would  lose, 
whether  he  was  insured,  whether  any  one  was 
hurt,  did  he  intend  to  rebuild,  etc.,  etc.  Finally, 
a  hard-headed  little  man  who  had  said  nothing, 
but  had  listened  attentively,  said,  "Well,  what 
I'd  like  to  know  is  —  did  Si  hit  the  owl?" 

And  another  thing  —  while  we  are  talking 
about  observation  —  be  sure  that  your  observa 
tions  are  correct  before  you  begin  to  draw  your 
conclusions  from  them.  And  don't  take  things 
for  granted!  And  right  here,  another  old  story 
is  worth  repeating.  Several  supposedly  learned 
men  were  debating  why  it  is  that  a  pail  of  water 
doesn't  weigh  any  more  after  a  live  fish  is  put 
into  it.  They  advanced  all  kinds  of  reasons,  but 
none  seemed  conclusive.  Finally,  they  went  to 
Benjamin  Franklin  and  put  the  question  to  him. 
"Let's  see  whether  it  doesn't  weigh  more," 
said  Franklin ;  and  he  proceeded  to  weigh  a  pail 


of  water;  and  then  put  a  live  fish  weighing  two 
pounds  into  it  and  weighed  it  again.  It  weighed 
just  two  pounds  more.  That  settled  the  argu 
ment.  If  Franklin  had  lived  in  our  day,  we 
would  have  said  that  he  "was  from  Missouri!" 
He  had  to  be  shown.  Because  a  lot  of  people  say 
a  thing  is  so  doesn't  make  it  so,  and  a  great  many 
popular  suppositions  have  no  basis  of  fact  what 
ever,  and  are  really  only  superstitions. 

The  boys  followed  the  trail  cautiously  for  a 
time,  about  a  hundred  yards  behind  the  band, 
but  finally  arrived  at  a  point  where  it  would 
have  been  almost  impossible  for  them  to  have 
continued  without  detection.  A  vast  open  space, 
more  than  a  mile  in  extent  and  flooded  by  the 
moonlight,  lay  before  them,  and  to  cross  this 
in  the  wake  of  the  Indians  would  have  been 
folly.  And  once  they  arrived  on  the  other  side 
of  this  space,  it  might  be  difficult  to  pick  up  the 
trail.  So  Injun  determined  to  strike  into  the 
mountains  in  the  direction  in  which  they  had 
seen  the  fire,  feeling  that  there  was  no  doubt  that 
that  was  the  objective  point  of  the  band,  and 
that  they  could,  perhaps,  get  ahead  of  them  on 

70 


ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  INDIANS 

account  of  the  fact  that  far  greater  speed  could 
be  made  by  the  two  boys  than  the  band  could 
attain,  hampered  as  they  were  by  their  horses. 
And,  in  addition  to  this  fact,  they  would  not  have 
to  proceed  with  the  same  degree  of  caution  that 
would  be  necessary  if  they  followed  their  present 
or  even  a  parallel  course. 

So,  after  a  consultation,  Injun  and  Whitey 
broke  away  from  the  trail,  and  started  across  the 
mountains  —  or,  rather,  on  a  diagonal  course, 
which,  according  to  Injun's  calculations,  would 
land  them  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  fire  which 
still  glowed  at  intervals. 


CHAPTER  VII 
CAUGHT 

Now  that  the  boys  were  out  of  sight  and  hearing 
of  the  band,  not  only  was  the  way  made  easier, 
but  conversation  was  permissible;  not  that  the 
latter  meant  much  in  Injun's  young  life,  for  he 
could  get  along  very  well  without  much  talk ;  but 
Whitey  was  burning  to  discuss  the  matter  in 
hand. 

"What  do  you  make  out  of  it  all?"  he  asked, 
when  they  were  well  away  from  the  trail. 

"Dunno,"  answered  Injun,  shaking  his  head 
doubtfully.  "No  good!"  he  added  —  on  that 
point  he  appeared  to  have  no  doubt.  The  dis 
covery  of  the  presence  of  a  white  man  with  the 
band  had  strengthened  the  impression  that  the 
boy  had  previously  formed.  He  knew  that  any 
band  of  Indians  traveling  at  that  time  of  night 
and  accompanied  by  a  white  man  probably  meant 
mischief.  The  white  man  wasn't  helping  the  In 
dians  —  they  were  probably  helping  him.  In  nine 
cases  out  of  ten,  when  a  white  man  allies  himself 

72 


CAUGHT 

with  Indians,  it  is  for  his  own  benefit,  not  for 
theirs;  and  the  Indians  are  frequently  the  suf 
ferers  for  his  misdeeds.  In  other  words,  the  white 
man,  afraid  of  burning  his  own  fingers,  used  the 
Indian  as  a  cat's-paw  to  rake  the  chestnuts  out 
of  the  fire.  If  anybody  got  burned,  it  would  be 
the  cat;  and  the  chestnuts  invariably  belonged 
to  the  white  man ! 

"Don't  you  think  it  might  be  just  a  hunting 
party?"  asked  Whitey. 

Injun  shook  his  head  decidedly.  "Injun  no 
hunt  dat  way." 

"Well,"  continued  Whitey,  "they  can't  be 
cattle-rustlers,  for  they  are  going  up  into  the 
mountains  where  there  are  no  cattle.  Maybe 
they  are  guiding  the  white  man  out  of  the  moun 
tains?" 

Again  Injun  shook  his  head.  "White  man 
guide  Injuns,"  he  said. 

"How  do  you  know  the  white  man  is  guiding 
them?"  asked  Whitey.  "You  couldn't  see  from 
that  distance  —  could  you?"  Whitey  was  pre 
pared  to  believe  almost  anything  about  Injun's 
eyesight,  but  this  seemed  a  little  too  much.  In 

73 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

fact,  Whitey's  eyes  were  good  enough  for  any 
body,  and  he  had  all  he  could  do  to  see  the  band 
at  all. 

"  Injun  step  in  white  man  tracks,"  said  Injun. 
This  was  one  of  those  matters  of  observation  of 
little  things  that  had  escaped  Whitey's  examina 
tion  of  the  tracks.  With  one  or  two  exceptions 
—  probably  where  the  white  man  had  deviated 
a  little  from  the  trail  or  had  stopped  to  issue 
some  directions  —  his  tracks  had  been  almost 
obliterated  by  those  of  the  Indians  that  followed 
him. 

"Gee!"  exclaimed  Whitey,  in  frank  admira 
tion,  as  he  thought  it  over.  "Injun,  you're  a 
wiz!" 

For  a  long  time  they  proceeded  in  silence,  the 
difficulties  of  the  course  requiring  much  exertion. 
Once  or  twice  they  heard  the  squall  of  a  panther 
far  up  the  mountain,  as  he  went  his  stealthy 
rounds  in  search  of  an  early  breakfast.  And  on 
those  occasions  there  was  the  noise  of  a  smaller 
animal  as  he  fled  in  a  panic  before  the  marauder. 
At  that  particular  point,  however,  the  mountain 
was  almost  bare  of  timber,  and^the  boys  knew 

74 


CAUGHT 

that  they  had  little  to  fear  from  the  mountain 
lion  in  the  open.  If  he  attacks  a  man  it  is  usually 
when  he  is  desperate  from  hunger,  and  then  his 
method  of  attack  is  to  spring  upon  his  victim  un 
awares  from  the  limb  of  a  tree.  He  will  seldom 
make  a  charge  like  a  grizzly.  If  the  panther 
doesn't  land  you  in  his  first  or  second  spring,  he 
quits.  The  grizzly  relies  upon  his  tremendous 
strength  and  bulk  to  make  an  almost  irresistible 
rush  that  sweeps  everything  out  of  his  path  and 
overwhelms  the  object  of  his  attack,  and  he 
never  quits !  The  panther  must  depend  upon  his 
quickness  and  cunning,  both  of  which  are  by 
no  means  ordinary  and  make  him  a  formidable 
enemy.  A  spring  of  twenty  feet  from  a  crouch 
ing  position  upon  the  limb  of  a  tree  is  not  at  all 
an  ^extraordinary  effort  for  him.  A  panther  is 
nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  big  cat  —  and  it  is 
a  matter  of  common  knowledge  how  quick  a  cat 
is.  If  there  is  anything  quicker  than  the  mem 
bers  of  the  cat  family,  I  don't  know  what  it  is  — 
except  lightning,  and  it  wouldn't  surprise  me 
much  to  learn  that  a  cat  can  dodge  that! 
The  boys  ploughed  steadily  ahead  as  fast  as 
75 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

the  darkness  and  the  rough  going  would  permit, 
and,  under  Injun's  infallible  sense  of  direction, 
bearing  toward  the  place  where  they  had  seen  the 
fire.  Frequently  it  seemed  to  Whitey  that  they 
were  going  in  the  wrong  direction,  but  he  had 
learned  to  trust  all  such  matters  to  Injun  im 
plicitly,  and  he  always  found  that  his  confidence 
was  not  misplaced. 

Perhaps  more  than  an  hour  had  elapsed  since 
they  had  left  the  trail,  and  soon  the  first  streaks 
of  the  dawn  would  begin  to  paint  the  east,  and 
Injun  increased  his  speed,  knowing  that  it  would 
be  far  better  to  conduct  their  investigations  un 
der  the  cover  of  darkness.  Already  he  had  begun 
the  ascent  of  the  last  steep  slope  that  lay  between 
the  boys  and  the  place  where  Injun  judged  the 
light  had  gleamed,  but  they  were  approaching  it 
from  a  different  angle  than  the  one  by  which  the 
Indians  were  coming.  The  course  now  lay  through 
a  thick  belt  of  timber,  which  made  progress  more 
difficult  not  only  because  the  foliage  shut  out  the 
light,  but  because  of  the  roots,  fallen  limbs,  and 
underbrush  that  barred  the  way.  Whitey  was 
having  a  particularly  hard  time  of  it,  and  found  it 


CAUGHT 

all  he  could  do  to  keep  up  with  the  swiftly  mov 
ing  Injun  who  seemed  to  avoid  intuitively  many 
of  the  things  that  Whitey  blundered  into.  The 
briars  scratched  his  face  and  hands  and  clung 
around  his  legs;  low  branches  whipped  him,  and 
the  protruding  roots  and  fallen  limbs  tripped  him; 
and  now  and  then  he  stepped  into  a  hole  or  ran 
plump  into  a  tree  with  a  bump  that  jarred  him  to 
his  heels.  (Try  going  through  thick  and  path 
less  woods  some  dark  night.) 

"Gee!"  panted  Whitey,  as  he  picked  him 
self  up  after  one  of  these  mishaps.  "You  must 
have  eyes  like  a  cat!  There's  got  to  be  something 
mighty  interesting  at  the  end  to  pay  for  all  this. 
I'll  bet  these  birds  are  just  going  to  have  a  pow 
wow  or  snake-dance  or  something  that  is  none 
of  our  business." 

"Heap  talk!"  grunted  Injun.  If  Whitey  was 
looking  for  any  sympathy  from  Injun,  that  was 
all  he  got. 

Injun  had  felt  the  ground  become  more  level, 
and  he  knew  that  they  had  reached  the  brow  of 
the  hill,  and  were,  therefore,  near  their  goal.  It 
was  evident  to  Whitey  that  Injun  was  proceed- 

77 


ing  with  much  more  caution,  picking  his  way  — 
or,  rather,  Whitey's  way  —  slowly  and  with  the 
purpose  of  making  as  little  noise  as  possible. 
In  a  moment,  Whitey  clutched  Injun's  arm:  "I 
smell  smoke,"  he  whispered.  Injun  nodded  — 
he  had  smelled  it  long  before. 

Gradually  the  boys  worked  their  way  along  the 
comparatively  level  ridge  to  a  point  where  there 
seemed  to  be  a  break;  and  beyond  this  break  the 
faint  illumination  caused  by  a  fire  was  sighted. 
Injun  threw  himself  on  the  ground  and  crawled 
on  his  hands  and  knees  toward  the  edge,  and 
Whitey  followed  his  example.  Sheltered  from 
view  by  the  thick  underbrush,  the  boys  raised 
themselves  and  looked  ahead  across  the  slight 
depression.  A  fire  illumined  the  whole  scene,  and 
by  the  light  the  boys  could  make  out  a  hole  or 
tunnel,  some  four  or  five  feet  in  height,  that  ran 
into  the  hill.  From  this  hole  several  Indians 
came  at  intervals,  carrying  sacks  of  earth  which 
they  dumped  into  a  pile,  and  then  returned  for 
more. 

For  a  moment  or  two  the  boys  watched  this 
in  silence;  and  then  Whitey  whispered,  "It's  a 

78 


CAUGHT 

gold-mine,  all  right!  I've  read  that  is  the  way 
the  Indians  get  out  the  pay-dirt." 

Injun  made  no  reply,  but  turned  his  head  in 
a  startled  way,  and  Whitey  also  glanced  quickly 
behind  him. 

The  boys  looked  into  the  face  of  a  gigantic 
Indian,  who  stood  regarding  them  with  stolid 
unfriendliness,  his  arms  crossed  upon  his  broad 
chest! 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  GOLD-MINE 

WHEN  John  Babcock,  an  old  and  grizzled  pros 
pector,  had  stopped  at  the  Bar  O  ranch,  early 
in  the  preceding  spring,  he  had  been  entertained 
by  Mr.  Granville,  who  made  every  passer-by  a 
welcome  guest,  as  you  will  recall  in  the  case  of 
the  renegade  Pedro.  Mr.  Granville  had  shown 
Babcock  the  piece  of  rich  ore  —  the  one  that  Bill 
Jordan  had  shown  to  Injun  and  Whitey  —  and 
had  told  him  that  it  had  been  found  years  before 
in  the  mountains  over  beyond  Moose  Lake.  This 
particular  piece  of  ore  had  aroused  the  greed  of 
more  than  one  man  to  whom  it  had  been  shown, 
on  account  of  its  richness.  But  although  many 
prospectors  had  made  excursions  into  these  moun 
tains,  no  one  had  succeeded  in  locating  pay-dirt 
of  any  value;  and  it  had  come  to  be  a  saying  on 
the  ranch  that  the  gold  contained  in  this  particu 
lar  piece  was  the  only  bit  of  that  precious  metal 
that  the  Almighty  had  ever  put  into  that  region. 
Babcock  hefted  and  fondled  the  chunk  lovingly, 

80 


THE  GOLD-MINE 


and  its  fascination  over  him  was  almost  pa 
thetic,  its  lure  irresistible. 

"'Tain't  so!"  said  the  old  man.  "There's 
nu thin'  truer  than  the  sayin'  thet  'wherever  gold 
is  thar's  more.'  An'  besides,  a  man  wouldn't 
need  more'n  a  ton  er  two  like  this  to  be  rich! 
Whar'd  this  chunk  come  from  —  what  part  o' 
them  mount'ns,  I  mean?" 

"That's  jest  it  —  nobody  knows,"  answered 
Mr.  Granville.  "This  here  chunk  was  found  onto 
a  man  thet  had  bin  up  in  the  mount'ns  an'  'peared 
to  be  tryin'  to  get  out.  He  was  some  hindered  by 
three  or  four  arrows  that  were  stickin'  in  divers 
an'  sundry  parts  of  him.  He'd  bin  dead  for  some 
days  when  one  o'  the  boys  found  him  on  the  trail. 
'Peared  like  he'd  mebbe  located  a  pay-streak  an' 
was  comin'  out  t'  get  the  means  an'  wherewithal 
to  work  it,  when  th'  Injuns  got  him.  Looked  like 
th'  Injuns  didn't  have  no  welcome  on  the  mat  for 
prospectors  —  leastways,  thet's  how  we  figgered 
it.  The'  was  a  lot  o'  men  went  in  there,  on  ac 
count  o'  thet  chunk,  but  none  on  'em  had  any 
luck,  an'  I  reckon  pretty  much  all  of  'em  had 
trouble  with  the  Injuns.  But  thet  was  ten  years 

Si 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

ago,  an'  nowadays  them  Injuns  is  all  drove  out, 
I  reckon.  We  give  'em  consider'ble  discourage 
ment  'bout  five  or  six  years  back,  when  they 
added  cattle-rustlin'  to  their  list  of  industries." 

"Humph ! "  grunted  Babcock ;  "  I  never  hed  no 
trouble  with  Injuns;  them  an'  me  seem  t' jibe 
first-rate  —  mebbe  on  'count  o'  me  speakin' 
most  ever'  kind  o'  Injun  lingo  the'  is.  'F  I  was  t' 
git  a  grub-stake — " 

"Come  in  th'  house,  an'  we'll  play  a  coupla 
games  o'  pedro  an'  talk  it  over,"  said  Granville, 
and  they  disappeared  into  the  ranch  house. 

At  any  rate,  a  day  or  two  afterward  Babcock 
left  the  ranch  with  a  saddle-horse  and  a  pack- 
horse  loaded  down  with  provisions,  but  nothing 
had  been  heard  of  him  since.  In  the  late  spring 
Mr.  Granville  had  died,  the  ranch  had  come  into 
Mr.  Sherwood's  possession,  and  the  incident  had 
been  almost  forgotten. 

It  would,  perhaps,  be  idle  to  follow  the  trail  of 
Babcock,  even  if  it  were  possible  to  do  so  accu 
rately;  suffice  it,  that  he  rode  one  day  into  a 
little  Dakota  Indian  village  on  the  north  side  of 
the  mountains,  and  was  so  weak  from  the  fever 

82 


THE  GOLD-MINE 


that  he  had  to  be  lifted  from  his  horse.  The  In 
dians  cared  for  him  and  nursed  him  for  many 
days;  but  in  spite  of  all  their  medicine  man  and 
the  squaws  and  John  Big  Moose  could  do,  Bab- 
cock  died.  But  before  he  passed  out  he  called  in 
John  Big  Moose,  and,  in  return  for  their  kindness 
to  him  and  on  account  of  his  general  liking  for 
their  race,  he  communicated  to  him  the  informa 
tion  that  he  had  located  the  rich  mine,  and  gave 
him  explicit  directions  as  to  how  to  find  it;  and 
the  Indians  of  the  village  that  were  available, 
under  the  leadership  of  John  Big  Moose,  lost 
little  time  in  starting  for  the  mine. 

John  Big  Moose  was  a  remarkable  character; 
he  was  more  than  six  feet  tall  and  finely  pro 
portioned.  He  had  been  educated  in  a  white 
man's  school  on  account  of  his  great  intelligence 
and  capabilities,  but  the  lure  of  the  wilds  was  in 
his  blood,  and  at  certain  times  he  returned  to 
his  own  people  and  lived  their  life  and  the  life 
of  his  fathers  that  called  to  him  irresistibly. 

John  Big  Moose  knew  very  well  what  a  gold 
mine  was,  and  he  knew  the  power  it  would  bring 
to  him  and  to  his  tribe,  provided  they  could  keep 

83 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

it.  He  understood  how  uncertain  it  is  for  an  In 
dian  to  keep  anything  that  a  white  man  wants, 
but  he  believed  that  he  could  arrange  that.  At 
least  the  mine  could  be  worked  in  secret  and  a 
great  quantity  of  gold  could  be  extracted  before 
they  would  be  compelled  to  give  it  up —  and  they 
would  never  give  it  up  without  all  the  struggle 
that  John,  himself,  was  capable  of  making,  and 
John  was  no  ordinary  Indian. 

It  will  be  remembered  by  those  who  have  read 
the  first  volume  of  this  series  that  on  the  night 
that  Crowley,  the  foreman  of  the  crooked  Cross 
and  Circle  outfit,  had  saved  Whitey's  life  at 
Ross's  ranch,  he  had  been  released  from  the  cap 
tured  bunch  by  Bill  Jordan,  not  only  on  account 
of  what  he  had  done  for  Whitey,  but  for  old 
times'  sake  as  well.  Jordan  had  told  him  to  se 
lect  his  revolver  and  rifle  from  the  pile  of  cap 
tured  weapons,  and  to  "see  how  far  he  could  ride 
away  from  those  parts  by  sun-up."  This  Crow- 
ley  proceeded  to  do;  but  instead  of  laying  his 
course  toward  the  railroad  station,  he  had  struck 
off  toward  the  mountains,  perhaps  feeling  that 
people,  in  general,  and  the  sheriff,  in  partial- 


THE  GOLD-MINE 


lar,  would  not  feel  so  leniently  disposed  toward 
him. 

Whatever  his  reason  was,  he  took  this  route; 
and  in  the  course  of  time  he  stumbled  upon  the 
abandoned  pans,  cradle,  and  sluice-boxes  that 
Babcock  had  used  until  the  fever  had  compelled 
him  to  abandon  them  and  seek  such  relief  as  he 
could  among  his  friends,  the  Dakotas. 

It  isn't  every  man  that  has  a  perfectly  good, 
ready-to-work  gold-mine  thrust  upon  him,  and 
Crowley  proceeded  to  make  the  most  of  his  op 
portunity,  which  wasn't  much.  He  had  worked 
only  long  enough  to  know  that  the  mine  was  a 
very  rich  one  when  something  happened.  Crow- 
ley  was  no  weakling,  and  he  wasn't  a  man  to 
abandon  a  good  thing  easily;  but  ten  or  twelve 
Dakotas,  most  of  them  armed  with  rifles,  caused 
Mr.  Crowley  to  change  his  plans  about  work 
ing  the  mine  any  further — just  then,  anyhow — 
and  he  managed  to  get  away  from  there  with 
his  life,  almost  all  of  his  skin  — •  except  where 
several  of  the  Dakotas'  bullets  had  chipped 
pieces  out  of  it  —  and  about  a  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars'  worth  of  loose  gold  which  he  had  washed 

85 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

out  in  less  than  two  days.  And  the  Dakotas  took 
possession  —  for  a  time! 

It  must  not  be  expected  —  not  by  any  one  ac 
quainted  with  Mr.  Crowley,  at  least  — •  that  that 
gentleman  would  sit  by  calmly  and  see  a  real 
good  gold-mine  taken  away  from  him  by  "a 

handful  o' red  niggers,"  as  he  expressed 

it.  Not  by  a  good  deal,  it  mustn't.  Mr.  Crowley 
was  a  more  or  less  resourceful  person  himself, 
and  he  knew  a  thing  or  two  about  Indians.  He 
knew  that  they  will  generally  "fall  for  a  white 
man's  game,"  and  also  that  in  these  latter  days 
of  the  race  it  was  an  easy  matter  to  set  one  tribe 
against  another,  especially  if  he  could  inject  a 
quantity  of  "fire-water"  into  their  systems  and 
could  dangle  gold  in  front  of  their  eyes. 

He  nosed  around  until  he  found  another  semi- 
nomadic  tribe  of  the  Crows,  over  on  the  western 
side  of  the  mountains,  and  by  means  of  the  va 
rious  "inducements"  he  held  out  it  didn't  take 
long  to  enlist  a  motley  outfit  of  scalawags  in  the 
expedition  that  he  had  in  mind.  And  so  Crow- 
ley,  at  the  head  of  some  fifteen  recruits,  set  out 
to  jump  the  claim  to  which  the  Dakotas  believed 

86 


THE  GOLD-MINE 


they  had  fallen  heir  on  the  death  of  old  John  Bab- 
cock  !  All  things  considered,  it  bade  fair  to  be  the 
basis  for  some  lively  times  in  that  vicinity.  Mr. 
Sherwood  and  Bill  Jordan  would  have  felt  com 
fortable,  indeed,  had  they  known  that  Injun  and 
Whitey  were  destined  to  be  in  the  thick  of  a  mix- 
up  of  that  kind !  And  in  it  they  were  —  up  to 
their  eyes ! 


CHAPTER  IX 
JOHN  BIG  MOOSE 

THE  moment  that  Whitey' s  startled  eyes  saw  the 
Indian,  he  whipped  out  his  gun  and  covered  the 
big  man.  The  latter  did  not  move,  and  a  faint 
smile  broke  over  his  face.  "What  do  you  pro 
pose  to  do  with  that  thing?"  he  asked,  in  perfect 
English. 

"If  you  make  a  move,"  said  Whitey,  as 
fiercely  as  he  could,  after  he  had  recovered  from 
his  astonishment  at  the  Indian's  speech,  "I'll 
put  a  hole  through  you!" 

"Oh,  no,  I  don't  believe  you'll  do  anything  of 
the  kind,"  said  the  Indian  calmly.  "You  don't 
look  as  bloodthirsty  as  all  that!  Besides,  what 
do  you  want  to  kill  me  for  ? " 

And  when  Whitey  thought  it  over  he  didn't 
really  know.  It  takes  considerable  nerve  to 
shoot  a  man  down,  even  if  you  know  he  is  a  deadly 
enemy  —  more  nerve,  anyway,  than  most  fifteen- 
year-old  boys  have  —  and  Whitey  lowered  the 
gun. 

88 


JOHN  BIG  MOOSE 


Injun  had  made  no  move  at  all  during  this 
time,  and  appeared  to  be  awed  by  this  majestic 
person  of  his  own  race  who  could  talk  like  a  white 
man.  In  fact,  the  whole  affair  was  very  discon 
certing  to  the  two  boys.  The  Indian  didn't 
seem  surprised  or  at  all  alarmed  at  their  presence, 
but  seemed  inclined  to  treat  them  as  a  pair  of 
runaway  schoolboys  that  he  intended  to  return  to 
their  parents.  He  was  not  at  all  threatening,  but 
looked  at  them  much  as  a  correction  officer  looks 
at  a  truant  or  juvenile  culprit. 

"What  are  you  two  doing  out  here  in  this 
wilderness,  anyway?"  he  asked,  a  little  sternly. 
"Is  there  anybody  with  you  —  I  don't  suppose 
you  have  come  away  out  here  alone?" 

"We're  here  alone,"  said  Whitey,  a  trifle 
haughtily.  "Injun  and  I  go  anywhere!"  Then 
he  added,  after  a  moment,  "We  can  take  care 
of  ourselves,  all  right!" 

"You  are  of  my  people,"  said  the  big  man  to 
Injun  in  the  language  of  the  Dakotas.  "What 
is  your  tribe?  Where  do  you  live?" 
i  (In  the  Sioux  tongue,  Injun  replied:  "I  am  of 
the  Mini-ko-wo-ju." 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

(The  Mini-ko-wo-ju  are  a  tribe  of  the  Sioux 
or  Dakotas  who  derived  their  tribal  name  from 
the  fact  that  they  always  lived  on  the  banks  of 
a  river  where  they  planted  Indian  corn.  "Mini- 
ko-wo-ju"  means  "plant  by  river.") 

"And  who  are  you  ? "  he  asked  of  Whitey. 

"My  name  is  Sherwood!  —  I  am  the  son  of 
Mr.  Sherwood  who  owns  the  Bar  O  ranch, 
about  twenty  miles  north  of  the  Junction,"  an 
swered  Whitey. 

t  "Well,"  said  the  Indian,  "you're  both  a  long 
way  from  home!  What  did  you  come  over  here 
for?" 

"We  came  here  just  for  a  trip  into  the  moun 
tains —  to  explore  the  place,"  replied  Whitey, 
who  was  beginning  to  regain  his  composure. 
"Earlier  in  the  summer  we  came  over  to  Moose 
Lake,  and  we  wanted  to  come  into  the  mountains 
—  just  to  see  what  there  is  here." 

"Hummm,"  mused  the  Indian,  sizing  up  the 
boys;  "that  doesn't  sound  very  probable,  but 
maybe  it's  true.  Have  you  any  idea  of  what 
you  were  looking  at  when  I  came  along  and 
caught  you  ?  Do  you  know  what  those  men  are 

90 


JOHN  BIG  MOOSE 


doing  down  there  by  the  fire  —  what  they  are 
carrying  out  of  that  hole?" 

"It  looks  to  me  as  though  they  were  working 
a  gold-mine,"  said  Whitey.  "I've  read  that  the 
Indians  work  a  mine  that  way  —  carry  the  pay- 
dirt  out  in  sacks." 

"Hummm,"  said  the  big  Indian,  again.  "You 
didn't  come  here  with  the  idea  of  selecting  a 
gold-mine  for  yourselves,  did  you?  Hadn't 
heard  anything  about  there  being  one  here,  had 
you?" 

"We  knew  there  was  gold  in  these  mountains 
—  somewhere,"  said  Whitey,  frankly,  "for  there 
is  a  big  chunk  of  ore  over  at  the  ranch  that  came 
from  somewhere  around  here;  and  Bill  Jordan 
told  us  that  if  a  gold-mine  walked  up  and  said 
'How  do  you  do'  to  us,  to  bring  it  back  with  us. 
That's  about  all  the  gold-mine  idea  we  had." 

John  Big  Moose  shook  his  head  sadly.  "I'm. 
afraid  that's  enough!"  he  said,  a  little  wearily. 
"It  would  seem  as  though  a  poor  and  deserving 
Indian  might  be  permitted  to  shovel  a  little  dirt 
out  of  a  hill  that  is  a  hundred  miles  from  any 
where,  without  having  visitors!  Still"  —  he 

91 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

said,  more  to  himself  than  to  the  boys,  as  he 
thought  over  his  own  position  in  the  matter  of 
the  ownership  of  the  mine — "I  don't  know 
that  I  have  a  right  to  expect  anything  different 
• —  under  the  circumstances.  Come  down  with 
me  by  the  fire,  and  we'll  talk  the  matter  over." 

And  John  Big  Moose  led  the  way  down  the 
declivity,  being  apparently  satisfied  that  the 
boys  would  follow  him  and  not  try  to  get  away. 
Whitey  looked  at  Injun,  and  Injun  looked  at 
Whitey;  then,  with  one  accord,  they  followed 
meekly  in  the  wake  of  John  Big  Moose. 

When  John  and  the  boys  arrived  within  the 
circle  of  the  fire's  light,  there  was  considerable 
interest  apparent  among  the  Indians  who  were 
working  at  the  mine,  and  it  must  be  confessed 
that  this  interest  did  not  seem  to  be  an  altogether 
friendly  one.  The  red  men  gathered  about  the  lit 
tle  group,  and  John  explained  to  them  what  had 
happened.  Injun,  of  course,  could  understand 
everything  that  was  said,  and  did  not  seem 
entirely  pleased  with  it;  and  even  to  Whitey, 
who  could  not  understand  a  word,  it  was  evident 
that  the  Indians  resented  the  intrusion  and  were 

92 


JOHN  BIG  MOOSE 


not  inclined  to  regard  the  matter  lightly.  John 
Big  Moose,  however,  was  plainly  acting  in  the 
role  of  moderator,  and  seemed  to  be  discouraging 
anything  like  hasty  or  summary  action.  He  ex 
plained  to  his  men  that  the  intruders  were  noth 
ing  but  boys,  and  as  far  as  any  immediate  dan 
ger  to  their  interests  was  concerned  they  had 
nothing  to  fear.  The  only  danger  lay  in  the  fact 
that,  once  the  boys  were  free,  they  might,  or  un 
doubtedly  would,  tell  of  the  mine,  and  thus  bring 
a  host  of  white  men  to  the  spot  to  the  obvious 
disadvantage  of  the  Indians.  He  explained  that 
it  would  be  well  to  question  the  boys  further 
before  taking  any  definite  measures.  He  was 
perfectly  satisfied,  from  Whitey's  manner  and 
evident  frankness,  that  the  boys  would  tell  the 
truth,  and  might  give  him  some  information 
upon  which  he  could  form  his  plans. 

"How  did  you  two  boys  happen  to  come  here 
—  to  this  very  spot,  I  mean  ? "  he  asked  of  Whitey. 
"  It  doesn't  seem  probable  to  me  that  you  could 
have  just  stumbled  upon  it." 

Whitey  thought  for  a  moment,  and  then  de 
cided  that  the  best  way  in  this  rather  ticklish 

93 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

situation  was  to  tell'the  whole  truth.  Not  that 
he  really  considered  lying  at  all;  but  there  were 
certain  things  that  he  might  conceal  or  keep 
back  that  had  no  bearing  upon  the  truth. 

"Injun  and  I  were  in  camp  in  a  little  clump  of 
woods,  way  down  at  the  base  of  the  mountains 
and  over  in  that  direction,  I  think  it  was,"  said 
Whitey,  indicating  the  direction  from  which 
they  had  come.  "A  little  after  midnight  we  were 
waked  up  by  a  band  of  Indians  and  horses  pass 
ing  the  camp,  about  fifty  yards  below  us  —  " 

John  Big  Moose  became  interested  at  once. 
"A  band  of  Indians  —  how  many,  and  in  what 
direction  were  they  going?"  he  asked. 

"There  were  about  fifteen,  we  figured,"  said 
Whitey,  "and  they  were  skirting  the  base  of  the 
mountain.  They  had  a  lot  of  horses  with  them 
which  they  rode  and  led.  We  watched  them  pass 
from  the  clump  of  trees,  and  then  we  came  out 
into  the  open.  Way  up  here  we  saw  the  fire,  and 
we  thought  it  was  a  signal  of  some  kind  and —  " 

John  Big  Moose  gave  a  hurried  order,  and  the 
men  quickly  covered  the  fire.  "Yes,  yes!"  said 
John  to  Whitey.  "Goon!" 

94 


JOHN  BIG  MOOSE 


"Injun  said  that  they  were  out  for  some  kind 
of  mischief,  and  we  made  up  our  minds  to  follow 
them  and  see  what  they  were  up  to.  We  paral 
leled  their  trail  for  quite  a  way,  but  sometimes 
we  had  to  come  back  to  it;  and  at  one  place, 
where  the  ground  was  soft,  Injun  saw  by  the  foot 
prints  that  there  was  a  white  man  with  them  — • 
he  was  leading  them." 

The  effect  of  this  speech  upon  John  Big  Moose 
was  very  marked.  He  turned  to  the  men  and 
evidently  communicated  to  them  what  Whitey 
had  told  him,  and  the  men  proceeded  to  get  busy. 
There  could  be  no  doubt  that  the  dispossessed 
Crowley  was  returning  with  reinforcements.  In 
a  moment  the  entire  band  was  gathered  about 
John  Big  Moose,  their  guns  or  other  weapons  in 
their  hands;  and  acting  under  his  orders,  they 
posted  themselves  at  various  points  around  the 
mine  so  as  to  command  every  possible  approach 
to  it.  Two  of  them,  detailed  by  John  Big  Moose, 
hurriedly  left  the  place  and  started  away  through 
the  woods,  evidently  to  do  duty  as  scouts  or 
pickets;  and  in  other  ways  the  place  was  pre 
pared  with  a  view  to  resisting  an  attack. 

95 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

This  done,  John  Big  Moose  questioned  Whitey 
and  Injun  in  regard  to  the  time  they  had  seen  the 
band,  their  course,  and  what  they  knew  of  the 
equipment  that  the  band  carried.  Injun  was  of 
the  opinion  that  he  and  Whitey  had  far  out 
stripped  the  band,  and  that  they  were  not  due 
in  the  vicinity  until  after  daylight,  encumbered 
as  they  were  by  the  horses  and  deprived  of  an 
opportunity  to  take  a  short-cut  as  he  and  Whitey 
had  done.  Evidently  John  Big  Moose  was  of  the 
same  opinion,  but  he  resolved  to  take  no  chances ; 
and  leaving  the  boys  for  a  moment,  he  circled 
the  mine  giving  whispered  instructions  to  his 
"army,"  and  estimating  the  probabilities  of  at 
tack  from  various  angles. 

"Well,  here  we  are!"  said  Whitey  to  Injun, 
after  John  Big  Moose  had  started  on  his  tour  of 
the  "fort,"  for  such  the  place  had  resolved  itself 
into.  "What'll  we  do?  I  don't  believe  these 
people  will  want  to  make  us  stay  here.  I  guess 
we  can  beat  it,  right  now  —  if  we  want  to." 

Injun  shrugged  his  shoulders,  indicating  that 
it  was  a  matter  of  indifference  to  him  what  they 
did.  Whitey  looked  about  him  for  a  moment, 


JOHN  BIG  MOOSE 


and  then  started  to  walk  leisurely  toward  the 
inner  edge  of  the  camp.  He  had  taken  but  a  step 
or  two  when  he  was  confronted  by  an  Indian 
with  a  gun,  who  seemed  to  rise  up  from  nowhere; 
and  if  Whitey  had  any  idea  that  the  boys  would 
be  allowed  to  "beat  it,"  that  idea  was  quickly 
dispelled  by  the  Indian's  manner.  The  Indian 
jabbered  at  him  savagely  and  made  violently 
threatening  motions  whose  meaning  could  not  be 
mistaken. 

"Oh,  very  well!"  said  Whitey,  moving  back 
to  his  place  beside  Injun.  "He  told  me  to  go 
way  back  and  sit  down,  and  I  thought  I'd  oblige 
the  gentleman  —  he  seemed  a  little  mad!" 

In  a  few  moments  John  Big  Moose  returned 
to  the  boys.  "I  have  been  a  little  puzzled  as  to 
what  I  ought  to  do  with  you  two  boys,"  he  said. 
"Before  long  things  will  be  pretty  hot  around 
here;  but  I  don't  see  how  I  can  afford  to  let  you 
go  —  for  two  reasons.  First,  because  if  you  hap 
pened  to  run  into  this  gang  that  has  come  here  to 
jump  this  claim  you  would  be  in  more  danger 
than  if  I  put  you  in  that  'tunnel  until  the  fight 
is  over.  And  secondly,  if  you  managed  to  get 

97 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

away  from  the  robbers  that  are  coming  here, 
you'd  tell  all  you  know,  and  that  would  be  bad 
for  me  again.  That's  what  you'd  do,  isn't  it — • 
tell  your  folks  all  about  it?" 

"Yes,"  said  Whitey,  "I  guess  we  would.  But 
I  can  tell  you,  right  now,  that  my  folks  aren't  the 
kind  that  would  come  here  and  take  anything 
that  doesn't  belong  to  them!"  Whitey  added,  a 
little  hotly. 

John  Big  Moose  smiled.  "Your  defense  of 
your  folks  does  you  credit,  son,  and  no  doubt  you 
speak  what  you  believe  to  be  true  —  is  true, 
from  your  point  of  view.  But  my  long  and  some 
what  bitter  experience  tells  me  that  the  white 
man's  ideas  of  what  belongs  to  him  don't  always 
square  up  with  an  Indian's  ideas.  However,  I'm 
going  to  take  a  chance,"  continued  the  Indian. 
"I'm  going  to  leave  it  to  you  as  to  what  you  want 
to  do  —  go  or  stay.  As  far  as  your  personal 
safety  is  concerned,  I  believe  one  is  about  as 
dangerous  as  the  other;  for,  from  what  you  say, 
that  gang  must  be  pretty  near  here  by  this  time, 
and  they  will  keep  a  sharp  lookout,  and  there  is 
no  telling  how  they  may  regard  you.  They  may 


JOHN  BIG  MOOSE 


kill  you.  You'll  find  friendly  treatment  here — 
from  us,  anyway.  Of  course,  if  you  decide  to 
stay,  we  won't  expect  you  to  do  any  fighting.  If 
we  lose  —  aren't  able  to  hold  the  place"  —  John 
Big  Moose  paused  and  smiled  grimly  —  "in  that 
case,  of  course,  I  can't  guarantee  anything.  So 
it's  up  to  you."  And  John  looked  from  one  to 
the  other  for  a  decision. 

Whitey  weighed  the  two  courses  in  his  mind 
for  a  time  and  then  he  turned  to  Injun:  "What 
do  you  say,  Injun?"  he  asked. 

Injun  again  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  made 
no  other  reply,  plainly  leaving  the  decision  to  his 
companion. 

"Well,"  said  Whitey,  slowly,  "if  I've  got  to 
decide  it,  I  vote  to  stay.  We  came  out  here  look 
ing  for  adventure,  and  I  guess  we  can  get  plenty 
of  that  no  matter  which  we  do  — •  go  or  stay.  If 
you  own  this  mine  and  somebody  is  coming  to  try 
to  rob  you  of  it,  I  don't  know  why  we  shouldn't 
stay  and  help  defend  it — as  a  matter  of  duty. 
I  know  if  we  were  in  your  position,  and  you  came 
along,  we'd  be  mighty  glad  to  have  you  stay  and 
help  us  defend  what  belonged  to  us." 

99 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

John  Big  Moose  reached  out  his  enormous  paw 
and  shook  Whitey's  hand  with  solemn  dignity. 
"I  thank  you,  son,  for  those  sentiments,"  he  said 
approvingly.  "I  think  it  is  a  very  fortunate 
thing  for  us  that  you  and  your  friend  came  along. 
But,  as  I  said  before,  neither  of  you  is  to  do  any 
fighting.  I  am  going  to  put  you  both  in  that 
tunnel,  where  you'll  be  fairly  safe.  When  it's 
all  over,  you  can  come  out.  You'll  find  me  still 
here  —  alive,  I  hope,"  he  added,  grimly.  - 

"We  don't  want  to  go  and  hide  in  any  tunnel ! " 
said  Whitey,  with  some  indignation.  "I  don't 
know  that  we  are  very  great  fighters,  but  we  can 
both  shoot  pretty  straight,  and  we  might  man 
age  to  do  something!" 

"I  feel  that  I  must  reject  your  generous  offer, 
although  I  appreciate  it,"  said  John,  smiling  at 
the  boys.  "But  this  is  a  matter  in  which  you 
have  no  real  interest —  except  to  see  that  right 
is  maintained,  and  I  can't  allow  you  to  take  any 
such  risk." 

Even  as  John  spoke,  a  shot  rang  out,  far  down 
toward  the  valley;  and  in  rapid  succession,  two 
more  were  heard. 

100 


JOHN  BIG  MOOSE 


"The  tunnel  is  right  over  there,"  said  John 
Big  Moose,  meaningly,  pointing  a  big  forefinger 
at  the  opening  in  the  side  of  the  hill.  Injun  and 
Whitey  took  up  their  guns,  which  John  had  not 
deemed  necessary  to  take  away  from  them,  and 
made  their  way  over  to  the  tunnel  and  seated 
themselves  resignedly  a  short  distance  from  its 
mouth. 

Up  in  the  sky  the  stars  had  begun  to  grow  dim 
and  then  to  go  out  altogether.  The  moon  had 
long  since  disappeared,  and  over  the  eastern  hor 
izon  the  blackness  had  become  gray,  and  was 
now  changing  to  purple,  with  here  and  there 
faint  tints  of  pink,  and  the  day  was  at  hand. 

Whitey  and  Injun  sat  upon  opposite  sides  of 
the  tunnel,  their  backs  against  the  walls,  each 
busy  with  his  own  thoughts,  but  with  every 
sense  keenly  alert.  Far  off  in  the  woods  Whitey 
could  hear  the  faint  twitter  of  the  awakening 
birds  and  the  occasional  sharp  bark  of  a  fox.  Not 
a  sound  came  from  the  armed  camp  about  him, 
but  he  knew  that  the  red  men  lay  in  wait,  silent 
and  deadly  as  a  water-moccasin  that  gives  no 
warning  when  he  strikes. 

101 


It  would  be  idle  to  say  that  Whitey — or  Injun, 
either,  for  that  matter  —  sat  there  unconcerned 
and  indifferent.  Whitey  was  very  much  alive  to 
the  seriousness  of  the  situation,  but  his  nerves 
were  under  control  and  there  was  nothing  panicky 
about  him.  It  would  be  untrue  to  say  that  he  had 
no  fears  —  was  not  afraid.  The  bravest  men  in 
the  world  know  what  fear  is,  but  they  don't  al 
low  it  to  influence  their  actions.  It  is  impossible 
to  think  that  any  boy  of  fifteen,  knowing  that 
he  will  soon  be  under  fire,  for  the  first  time  in  his 
life,  experiences  no  fear!  He  does.  He  must! 
And  bravery  consists  in  putting  fear  behind  you 
• —  in  disregarding  it.  If  there  were  no  fear,  how 
could  there  be  any  bravery? 

There  is  an  old  story  of  a  young  lieutenant 
who  rode  into  battle  at  the  side  of  his  commander, 
the  hero  of  many  campaigns  and  a  man  renowned 
for  his  bravery.  The  lieutenant  was  blithe  and 
gay,  and  the  old  general  was  plainly  apprehensive. 
The  lieutenant  turned  to  his  commander  and 
said,  "Why,  General!  You  actually  seem  to  be 
afraid!" 

"I  am,"  said  the  general.  "And  if  you  were 
1 02 


JOHN  BIG  MOOSE 


half  as  much  afraid  as  I  am,  you  would  run 
away." 

Whitey  had  learned  enough  philosophy  to  know 
that  when  you  are  in  a  bad  situation,  the  only 
thing  to  do  is  to  make  the  best  of  it.  The  thing  to 
do  is,  don't  get  into  the  bad  situation  unless  you 
are  prepared  to  go  through  with  it.  And  with 
his  mind  made  up  to  take  what  came,  Whitey 
awaited  what  the  day  had  in  store  for  him.  If 
Injun  had  been  asked  about  it,  he  would  have 
said,  beyond  the  shadow  of  a  doubt,  that  he'd 
"take  a  little  of  the  same!"  Whatever  was  com 
ing  to  Whitey  was  good  enough  for  Injun! 


CHAPTER  X 
A  DANGEROUS  MISSION 

WHEN  Big  Jim  Crowley  had  been  driven  from 
the  mine  by  John  Big  Moose  and  his  braves,  he 
had  considered  himself  a  much  aggrieved  man. 
To  all  appearances  the  mine  was  an  abandoned 
one,  and  Crowley  considered  that  he  was  its 
rightful  owner — by  right  of  possession,  anyway; 
which  under  all  codes  is  considered  to  be  "nine 
points  of  the  law."  Babcock  had  not  been  at  the 
mine  for  weeks,  and  therefore  there  were  no  signs 
of  recent  work  visible  to  Crowley,  nor  any  of  the 
usual  marks  that  indicated  claim  and  boundary. 
Upon  the  coming  of  John  Big  Moose  and  his 
Indians  there  had  been  no  parley  or  discussion; 
and,  therefore,  neither  party  understood  the  po 
sition  of  the  other.  Usually  that  is  the  basis  of 
all  quarrels  of  any  kind  —  a  misunderstanding. 
Crowley  had  simply  warned  off  the  Indians,  re 
garding  them  as  claim-jumpers,  and  had  opened 
fire  on  them;  and  they,  looking  upon  him  in  the 
same  light,  had  replied,  with  the  result  as  told 

104 


A  DANGEROUS  MISSION 


before  —  Crowley  had  no  chance  against  ten  or 
twelve  armed  men  under  the  leadership  of  such 
a  man  as  John  Big  Moose.  And  Crowley  was 
compelled  to  take  it  on  the  run,  minus  a  little 
skin  and  blood  from  slight  wounds. 

John  and  his  braves  considered  the  mine  to  be 
rightfully  theirs,  by  virtue  of  Babcock's  grant  to 
them;  and  so,  with  each  party  deeming  itself 
to  be  in  the  right,  the  struggle  was  likely  to  be 
bitter  and  tenacious. 

With  the  first  real  light  of  the  day  the  two  In 
dians  who  had  been  out  on  scout  or  picket  duty 
returned  to  the  mine,  and  reported  that  a  party 
of  Crows  led  by  a  white  man  were  in  the  valley 
to  the  southeast,  and  that  one  of  them  had  fired 
a  shot  at  the  intruders,  who  had  fired  two  shots 
in  reply,  but  that  none  of  the  shots  took  effect. 
Again,  the  same  situation  had  come  about — • 
an  exchange  of  shots  before  any  exchange  of 
views  had  taken  place,  and  now  such  a  thing  as 
a  conference  or  peaceful  adjustment  was  out  of 
the  question.  And  with  the  enemy  known  to  be 
at  hand,  John  Big  Moose  ordered  his  men  to 
redouble  their  vigilance. 

105 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

As  the  morning  wore  on  and  no  attack  came, 
Whitey  began  to  feel  that  the  attack  would  not 
be  made  until  it  could  be  done  under  the  cover 
of  night,  and  there  yet  remained  time  for  other 
things — one  of  which  was  breakfast.  For  the 
first  time  since  starting  in  pursuit  of  the  band, 
Whitey  realized  that  he  was  hungry;  and  he  and 
Injun  got  out  the  chunks  of  bacon  and  bread 
with  which  they  had  supplied  themselves  before 
starting  out  and  fell  to  with  a  relish.  Raw  bacon 
and  dry  bread  are  not  usually  considered  to  be 
a  very  great  delicacy;  but  on  this  occasion  and 
under  the  circumstances,  Whitey  made  no  com 
plaint.  He  had  consumed  perhaps  half  of  what 
he  had  allotted  to  himself  as  a  meal,  when, 
without  any  warning,  a  number  of  shots  were 
fired  from  the  slope  that  led  down  on  the  east 
ern  side  of  the  mountain,  and  several  of  the 
bullets  pinged  through  the  leaves  of  the  near 
by  trees  or  embedded  themselves  in  the  trunks. 
Breakfast  was  over! 

There  was  no  reply  of  shots  from  the  holders 
of  the  "fort,"  for  John  Big  Moose  had  studied 
the  situation  carefully.  The  tunnel  was  sunk 

106 


A  DANGEROUS  MISSION 


into  the  side  of  the  hill,  perhaps  two  thirds  of  the 
way  up  the  mountain,  and  before  the  tunnel  was 
a  small  level  plateau  to  which  the  pay-dirt  was 
brought  out.  This  plateau,  not  more  than  fifty  or 
sixty  feet  in  extent,  sloped  sharply  on  the  left 
to  the  valley  below  on  the  southeasterly  side; 
while  on  the  westerly  and  northwesterly  sides 
there  was  a  very  gradual  descent.  To  the  north 
and  northeast  the  mountain  rose  high  behind  it,, 
and  it  was  from  this  point  that  John  Big  Moose 
expected  the  attack,  believing  that  the  shots  were 
fired  from  the  side  toward  the  valley  to  attract 
the  attention  of  his  men  to  that  locality,  so  that 
the  rest  of  the  band  might  have  the  advantage  of 
an  attack  from  the  higher  ground  and  upon  their 
unprepared  rear.  There  was  a  growth  of  timber 
on  all  of  these  slopes;  but  thinner,  of  course, 
nearer  the  top  of  the  mountain  than  upon  the 
slopes  that  led  to  the  valley  from  the  plateau  of 
the  mine. 

Events  proved  that  John  had  figured  correctly, 
and  in  a  short  time  the  fire  of  the  attack  came 
from  above;  but  even  this  fire  was  not  answered,, 
for  there  was  little  chance  of  doing  any  effective. 

107 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

shooting  on  account  of  the  thickness  of  the  tim 
ber;  and  it  became  evident  to  both  parties  that 
nothing  of  any  consequence  could  be  accom 
plished  except  at  close  quarters.  In  case  the  at 
tacking  party  rushed  the  defenders  and  tried  to 
storm  the  place,  the  engagement  would  probably 
be  a  long-drawn-out  affair.  Expecting  this  kind 
of  an  attack,  John  Big  Moose  had  posted  most 
of  his  men  on  the  uphill  side  of  the  mine,  leaving 
only  two  or  three  to  guard  the  slope  to  the  valley. 
In  case  of  an  attack  from  that  quarter,  the  men 
could  be  rushed  over  the  fifty  feet  of  plateau  in 
ample  time  to  meet  it,  and  as  the  number  of  each 
party  was  about  the  same,  the  advantage  would 
be,  of  course,  with  the  defenders  unless  they  were 
taken  by  surprise,  a  thing  which  John  did  not 
propose  should  happen. 

After  a  time  the  fire  from  above  ceased,  as  it 
must  have  been  evident  to  the  attackers  that  it 
was  accomplishing  nothing,  and  for  more  than 
an  hour  nothing  happened  —  one  of  those  long 
waits  that  are  far  more  trying  to  the  nerves  than 
actual  fighting.  Now  and  then,  as  John  made 
the  rounds  of  his  men,  he  would  stop  at  the 

108 


A  DANGEROUS  MISSION 


mouth  of  the  tunnel  and  say  a  few  words  to  the 
boys. 

"How  does  it  feel  to  be  under  fire?"  he  asked. 

"Gee!"  said  Whitey,  "I  can't  see  that  we're 
under  fire,  cooped  up  in  this  tunnel !  I  feel  like  a 
rabbit  in  a  burrow  waiting  for  a  dog  to  dig  him 
out." 

"The  dog  doesn't  always  dig  him  out,"  re 
turned  John,  grimly,  as  he  started  to  walk  away. 

"Is  this  mine  so  very  valuable  that  all  this 
fuss  should  be  made  over  it  — •  people  come  a  long 
way  to  fight  for  it  and  kill  each  other?"  asked 
Whitey. 

"Yes,"  answered  John,  "it  is  probably  very 
valuable,  but  that  isn't  the  real  point.  The  mine 
belongs  to  us,  and  these  people  have  come  here 
to  take  it  away  from  us  by  force.  If  it  wasn't 
worth  a  last  year's  bird's  nest,  I  would  fight  for 
it  under  those  conditions!" 

"How  did  you  come  to  get  it  —  did  you  dis 
cover  it?"  asked  the  boy. 

"We  got  it  from  a  man  named  Babcock  who 
was  the  discoverer.  He  came  to  our  village,  sick 
and  about  to  die,  and  we  nursed  and  cared  for 

109 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

him.  In  return,  just  before  he  died,  he  called  me 
in  and  gave  it  to  the  people  who  had  been  kind  to 
him.  I  think  that  makes  our  title  good." 

"I  don't  understand  what  claim  these  other 
people  have  on  it,"  said  Whitey.  "What  has 
the  white  man  who  is  with  them  got  to  do  with 
it?  How  did  they  come  to  know  about  the 
mine?" 

"When  we  came  here  to  take  possession  of  our 
mine,"  said  John,  patiently,  "we  were  fired  on 
by  a  white  man  who  had  evidently  been  working 
it  in  Babcock's  absence.  He  didn't  wait  to  ask 
who  we  were,  but  opened  fire  at  once  and  hurt 
one  or  two  of  our  men.  We  returned  the  fire,  of 
course,  and  drove  him  out  —  as  we  had  a  right  to 
do.  Now,  it  is  evident  that  he  has  gone  off  and 
incited  a  tribe  of  the  Crows,  by  promises  of 
wealth,  to  back  him  up  in  his  attempt  to  retake 
the  mine.  That  is  all  clear,  isn't  it?  And  you 
don't  suppose  we're  going  to  submit  to  any  such 
robbery,  do  you  ? " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Whitey,  in  a  puzzled  way. 
"Maybe  he  thinks  that  you  people  are  robbers, 
too,  because  you  took  it  away  from  him  by  force. 

no 


He  doesn't  know  that  this  Babcock  gave  the 
mine  to  you,  does  he?" 

"No;  he  opened  fire  on  us  before  we  had  a 
chance  to  tell  him  who  we  were  or  establish  our 
claim,"  said  John,  "and  violence  must  be  met 
with  violence.  Now,  it  is  too  late  for  any  talk. 
He  preferred  to  argue  with  a  rifle,  and  I  guess 
we'll  let  him  have  his  own  way,"  added  John,  his 
face  setting  hard  as  he  made  his  way  across  the 
plateau  toward  his  men. 

Whitey  thought  soberly  for  a  long  time.  When 
he  had  started  for  the  West,  he  had  been  of  the 
opinion  that  killing  Indians  came  pretty  near 
being  the  "king  of  outdoor  sports."  In  many  of 
the  books  he  had  read,  the  life  of  an  Indian  didn't 
have  any  value  at  all.  In  fact,  killing  an  Indian 
was  commendable.  An  Indian's  only  part  of  the 
show  was  to  get  himself  killed  — •  if  it  wasn't  for 
killing  him,  the  book  could  get  along  first-rate 
without  him.  "  Crack !  went  the  rifle,  and  another 
of  the  red  devils  bit  the  dust ! "  That  was  a  favor 
ite  line.  He  had  never  stopped  to  figure  how  the 
Indian  felt  about  it!  But  after  he  had  been  in  the 
West  for  a  time,  his  ideas  began  to  change.  Read- 
ill 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

ing  about  it  was  a  very  different  thing  from  doing 
it,  or  even  seeing  it  done.  Injun  was  an  Indian 
—  and  his  pal  — •  not  a  great  deal  different  from 
many  of  the  boys  in  school  back  East  —  maybe 
a  lot  better  than  some.  Nor  could  Whitey  im 
agine  that  it  would  be  any  very  great  pastime  to 
kill  an  Indian  like  John  Big  Moose,  or  even  some 
of  his  men.  They  looked  quite  a  good  deal  like 
human  beings.  So  did  some  of  the  Indians  that 
had  come  to  the  ranch  • —  one  or  two  had  given 
him  beaded  moccasins,  and  another  had  built 
him  a  canoe.  Come  to  think  of  it,  it  was  the  old 
Indian  squaw  who  had  saved  his  life  with  her 
herbs  and  stuff  that  she  cooked  in  the  kettle  on 
the  tripod,  that  time  he  got  bitten  by  the  rattler! 
Take  it  all  in  all,  he  didn't  think  it  would  be 
an  especially  attractive  sight  to  see  the  ground 
covered  with  writhing,  wounded  men  —  even 
Indians  —  in  bloody  agony  and  death. 

Whitey  got  up  from  where  he  sat  in  the  tunnel 
and  walked  straight  across  the  plateau  to  John 
Big  Moose  —  Injun  followed  him.  He  was  his 
pal,  and  he  was  going  "to  have  a  little  of  the 
same,"  whatever  it  was ! 

112 


A  DANGEROUS  MISSION 


"Mr.  Big  Moose,"  said  Whitey,  in  a  deter 
mined  way,  "  I  don't  believe  it's  too  late  to  have 
some  kind  of  a  settlement  of  all  this ! " 

Mr.  Big  Moose  started  in  astonishment,  and 
yanked  the  two  boys  behind  a  tree. 

"What  are  you  doing  out  here  contrary  to 
orders?"  asked  the  big  man.  "How  would  you 
propose  to  settle  it?" 

p>  "I  don't  know  just  how,"  said  the  boy,  ear 
nestly,  "but  I  'm  willing  to  go  and  see  that  other 
gang  and  find  out  if  it  can't  be  done.  I  don't 
think  they'll  shoot  me  —  I'm  a  boy,  and  they'll 
know  that  I  am  not  coming  to  attack  them.  If 
there  is  a  white  man  there,  I  can  talk  to  him,  any 
way!  Please  let  me  try!" 

"Your  intentions  are  very  good,  son,"  said 
John,  "but  I  can't  see  what  there  is  to  settle.  This 
mine  belongs  to  us,  and  we  won't  give  in  an  inch! 
That  doesn't  leave  much  to  settle,  does  it?" 
And  John  looked  down  at  Whitey,  admiring,  but 
very  firm. 

"Maybe  you  won't  have  to  give  in  —  when 
they  understand  how  the  thing  stands,"  pleaded 
the  boy.  "At  any  rate,  I'll  explain  the  case  to 

"3 


the  white  man.  If  he's  half  white,%e'll  see  that 
you  have  justice  on  your  side  and  do  what's 
right.  It's  worth  trying,  anyhow!" 

John  Big  Moose  shook  his  head.  "No,  son, 
that  is  far  too  dangerous  a  mission  for  you  to 
undertake.  Besides,  I'm  afraid  you  are  think 
ing  about  what  your  father  would  do  in  a  simi 
lar  case,"  he  continued.  "This  white  man  will 
probably  act  very  differently  —  he  has  acted  dif 
ferently,  already." 

"I  know  that,"  said  Whitey,  "but  he  didn't 
understand  then,  and  he  doesn't  understand  now ! 
Please  let  me  go!" 

It  took  quite  a  little  urging,  but  almost  against 
his  better  judgment — finally,  he  reluctantly  con 
sented;  and  Whitey  made  ready  to  go,  laying 
aside  his  rifle  and  revolver,  showing  that  he  was 
unarmed. 

"What  are  you  going  to  tell  him  ? "  asked  John. 
''What  are  you  going  to  ask  him  to  do?" 

"I  don't  know,"  answered  Whitey.  "I'll  wait 
till  I  get  there  and  then  I'll  figure  that  out." 
And  he  started  away  toward  the  rise  of  the 
mountain  above  them.  Injun  followed  after  him. 

114 


A  DANGEROUS  MISSION 


"Here!"  said  John,  sharply,  in  the  Dakota 
language,  "I  don't  think  you  better  go  along, 
boy.  They  may  not  have  the  same  considera 
tion  for  you  that  they  will  for  the  white  boy. 
You  come  back ! " 

Injun  turned  to  John  Big  Moose  with  all  the 
dignity  that  can  be  invested  in  five-foot-three, 
and  said  something  that  sounded  to  Whitey  like 
a  pack  of  fire-crackers  going  off.  And  John  Big 
Moose  slowly  nodded  his  head,  and  made  no 
further  objection  to  Injun's  going. 

"What  did  you  say  to  him?"  Whitey  asked, 
as  they  departed. 

"Me  tell  'urn  we  come  together  —  we  go  to 
gether,"  growled  Injun. 

"Good  old  Injun!"  said  Whitey,  slapping  his 
pal  on  the  back;  and  the  two  boys  made  their 
way  among  the  trees,  each  with  one  hand  held 
high  in  the  air. 


CHAPTER  XI 

CROWLEY 

IN  the  camp  of  the  enemy  it  cannot  truthfully 
be  said  that  entire  harmony  prevailed,  which 
fact  accounted,  in  part,  for  the  delayed  attack 
upon  the  defenders  of  the  mine.  It  will  be  re 
membered  that  Crowley  was  not  the  most  gentle 
of  mortals,  even  when  sober;  and  in  instilling  a 
little  "Dutch  courage"  into  his  band  of  follow 
ers  he  had  also  instilled  a  little — or  perhaps  more 
than  a  little  —  into  himself.  Neither  he  nor  his 
men  were  really  very  drunk,  but  they  had  had 
enough  to  make  them  bad-tempered;  and  the 
Indians,  smarting  under  a  blow  from  Crowley's 
heavy  fist,  or  from  one  of  his  No.  ii's,  were 
nursing  something  that  bordered  on  mutiny. 
Crowley  had  been  accustomed  of  late  to  dealing 
with  Greasers  and  half-breeds  and  the  Indians 
of  the  South — a  very  different  proposition  from 
the  Indians  of  the  North.  Sometimes  an  ac 
credited  officer  of  the  law  or  of  the  military  can 
get  away  with  a  good  deal  of  high-handed  stuff, 

116 


CROWLEY 


or  an  ordinary  white  bully  if  he  is  in  a  white 
man's  community.  But  it  is  bad  judgment  to 
kick  an  Indian  around  when  you're  a  hundred 
miles  in  the  wilderness  and  there  are  ten  or  fifteen 
of  his  own  kind  with  him — especially  if  they  are 
doing  you  more  or  less  of  a  favor  and  the  jug 
has  been  passing  around  a  little  freely.  It  doesn't 
do  to  show  any  weakness,  of  course;  but,  by 
the  same  token,  it  doesn't  do  to  hand  out  bru 
tality.  And  about  this  time  Mr.  Crowley  found 
himself  in  somewhat  of  a  fix. 

It  had  occurred  to  several  of  his  "army"  that 
maybe  this  white  man  wasn't  altogether  neces 
sary  to  the  success  of  this  expedition  anyhow, 
and  perhaps  they  could  get  along  very  well  with 
out  him.  He  would  probably  want  about  all  the 
gold  there  was  in  the  mine  for  his  share — they 
were  not  altogether  without  previous  bitter  ex 
perience  as  to  what  "a  white  man's  share"  is  — 
even  after  they  had  done  the  work  of  digging  it 
out.  Besides,  one  man  less  would  make  each  one's 
share  just  that  much  larger.  He  had  not  en 
deared  himself  to  them  exactly,  and  was  not  the 
kind  that  they  were  wildly  enthusiastic  to  fight, 

117 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

bleed,  and  die  for — not  after  the  whiskey  began 
to  get  a  little  low,  he  wasn't.  He  didn't  look 
near  so  much  like  a  fairy  godfather  as  he  did  at 
first.  In  fact,  his  unpopularity  had  reached  that 
stage  where  Mr.  Crowley  could  see  it  himself. 
He  was,  however,  somewhat  handicapped  when 
it  came  to  makingfreparation  for  what  he  rec 
ognized  as  mistakes.  Not  knowing  how  to  talk 
Crowjndian  very  well,  he  couldn't  offer  a  very 
elaborate  apology  and  smooth  things  over,  and 
he  didn't  dare  to  ask  them  "to  have  another 
drink  and  forget  it."  The  most  casual  observer 
could  have  seen  that  he  was  "in  bad." 

As  will  be  remembered  from  those  things  that 
Crowley  did  at  the  Cross  and  Circle  ranch,  and 
from  the  episode  with  Bill  Jordan  in  Silver-Dollar 
Joe's  place  in  San  Antone,  he  was  neither  a 
coward  nor  a  bully.  But  there  is  no  telling  what 
a  man  will  do  when  he  has  a  "  cargo  of  red-eye  on 
board."  And  Crowley  sober,  and  Crowley  half 
drunk,  were  two  different  individuals.  The  real 
ization  of  his  position,  however,  had  sobered 
him  considerably;  and  he  had  come  to  the  con 
clusion  that  the  only  thing  for  him  to  do  was  to 

118 


CROWLEY 


bluff  it  through  and  trust  to  his  rather  master 
ful  personality  to  prevent  any  actual  rebellion; 
thus  far  there  had  been  only  black  looks  and  the 
sullen  performance  of  such  things  as  were  im 
mediately  necessary. 

Whitey  and  Injun  had  made  their  way  for  per 
haps  some  two  hundred  yards  up  the  hill  and 
nothing  had  happened  and  nothing  unusual  could 
be  seen  by  them.  In  fact,  there  was  a  stillness 
that  was  almost  oppressive;  no  twitter  of  birds  or 
any  sight  of  the  usual  small  animals.  Injun  knew 
that  this  was  because  of  the  fact  that  there  were 
men  in  the  forest  and  the  birds  and  animals 
were  keeping  under  cover.  The  boys  knew,  too, 
that  there  were  keen  eyes  upon  them,  and  that 
at  any  moment  an  Indian  might  shoot  at  them. 

As  they  proceeded  up  the  rather  rough  and 
steep  slope,  each  of  the  boys  kept  his  hand  held 
aloft  in  token  of  salutation,  and  as  a  sign,  more 
over,  that  he  intended  no  harm.  When  they  were 
well  away  from  the  mine,  perhaps  a  quarter  of 
a  mile,  Injun  suddenly  stopped,  and  called  in 
a  loud  voice,  "How  Kola-how-how!" 

Whitey  stopped  also,  and  he  knew  that  Injun 
119 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

must  have  seen  something.  For  a  moment  there 
was  no  answer,  and  then  three  Indians,  each 
carrying  a  rifle,  rose  up  from  the  thick  under 
brush  and  came  toward  them.  While  the  atti 
tude  of  the  Indians  was  not  exactly  menacing,  it 
was  by  no  means  friendly,  and  left  no  doubt  that 
the  boys  were  prisoners,  although  they  were  not 
bound  or  forcibly  restrained.  Injun  did  the  talk 
ing  and  Whitey  realized  that  had  he  been  alone 
he  might  have  had  some  difficulty  in  making  the 
Indians,  who  were  practically  sure  to  intercept 
him  before  he  got  to  the  white  man,  understand 
what  the  object  of  his  mission  was. 

One  of  the  Indians  questioned  the  boys  in  the 
Crow  tongue,  which,  of  course,  Injun  did  not 
understand.  So  the  language  that  is  universally 
understood  between  all  Indian  tribes,  and  which 
is  also  understood  by  many  of  the  white  pioneers, 
was  resorted  to  —  hand-talk,  or  the  language  of 
signs.  For  example,  the  Sioux  or  Dakotas,  Crows, 
Cheyenne,  Blackfeet,  or  whatever  the  tribe  may 
be,  all  speak  a  different  tongue  just  like  the  dif 
ferent  nations  of  the  white  race  —  English,  Rus 
sian,  French,  Italian,  Spanish,  or  Swedish.  But, 

1 20 


CROWLEY 


as  I  have  stated,  the  plains  Indians  understand 
the  universal  language  —  hand-talk. 

As  Injun  explained  to  their  captors  that  they 
brought  a  message  from  the  Dakotas  to  the 
"White  Chief,"  Whitey  gazed  with  wide-eyed 
admiration  at  his  quiet  young  friend,  who  carried 
on  the  free  and  understandable  conversation  with 
graceful  signs.  This  was  the  first  time  that 
Whitey  had  ever  seen  hand-talk,  and  in  spite  of 
the  seriousness  of  the  situation  and  the  menac 
ing  attitude  of  the  Crows  he  could  not  but  marvel 
at  the  beauty  and  majesty  of  the  conversation — 
hand-talk  being  made  with  full  arm  gestures  and 
with  swinging  motions  or  postures  of  the  body. 
It  is  beautiful  in  its  freedom  and  grace. 

The  three  Crows  consulted  for  a  time  in 
their  own  tongue,  and  Injun  was  unable  to  un 
derstand  a  word  of  what  was  said.  Finally  one 
of  them  gestured  to  Injun: 

"Do  the  Dakotas  wish  to  surrender?" 
With  dignity,  Injun  resumed  his  hand-talk: 
"The  message  is  for  the  White  Chief.   Take 
us  to  him." 

It  was  plain,  to  the  boys,  that  the  Indians  were 

121 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

not  any  too  willing  to  do  this;  but  after  a  short 
consultation  they  signed  to  Injun  and  Whitey 
to  precede  them  farther  up  the  mountain,  and 
the  three  Indians  fell  in  behind.  At  intervals,  as 
they  proceeded,  they  were  joined  by  other  In 
dians  who  seemed  to  Whitey  to  come  out  of  the 
air,  so  complete  had  been  their  concealment. 
And  Whitey  now  realized  that  had  they  left  the 
mine  when  they  had  first  made  the  attempt  which 
was  frustrated  by  one  of  the  guards,  it  would 
have  been  next  to  impossible  to  have  eluded  the 
band  that  almost  completely  surrounded  the 
place.  They  proceeded  in  silence,  as  far  as  any 
talk  between  the  boys  and  their  captors  was  con 
cerned,  but  the  Indians  were  exchanging  sig 
nificant  looks.  In  a  few  moments,  however,  they 
arrived  at  a  small  and  nearly  level  nook  in  which 
the  Indians  had  left  their  horses  and  such  equip 
ment  as  they  had  brought.  And  there,  too,  was 
the  "White  Chief"  —  but  he  was  tied  to  a  tree! 
Whitey  had  not  recovered  from  his  astonish 
ment  at  the  condition  of  the  man  who  he  sup 
posed  was  the  leader  and  commander  of  the  gang, 
when  he  received  a  further  shock  of  an  equally 

122 


CROWLEY 


violent  nature.  As  he  approached  the  man  the 
latter  let  out  a  laugh  that  sounded  strange,  con 
sidering  the  serious  plight  he  was  in. 

"Jumpin'  Jehosophat!"  he  roared,  "ef  it 
ain't  them  two  r'arin'  catamounts  from  the 
Bar  O!  Does  yo'  two  calc'late  to  mix  in  with 
ev'ry  rough-house  party  thet's  giv'  in  this  here 
region?  How's  my  friend  Bill  Jordan  comin'  on 
—  not  t'  mention  Pedro  an'  Ol'  Man  Ross,  right 
name  Yancey?" 

"Mr.  Crowley!"  said  Whitey  in  astonishment. 
"What's  the  matter?  Were  you  the  white  man 
who  started  to  work  the  mine  when  the  Dakotas 
came  and  took  it  away  from  you?" 

"I  am  that  same,"  said  Crowley.  "An*  I  was 
preparin'  t'  lead  these  here  red  skunks  t'  ever- 
lastin'  riches,  repose,  an'  rum,  when  they  turns 
on  me  an'  has  me  wrapped  up  here  like  a  bat 
handle." 

"Well,  what  was  the  matter?"  asked  Whitey. 

"Wai,"  said  Crowley,  "'pears  like  I  didn't 
hev  parlor-manners  'miff  t'  suit  'em.  I  give  one 
'r  two  of  'em  a  slap  on  th'  wrist  an'  a  kick  in  th* 
pants,  an'  they  took  it  to  heart.  Seems  they  was 

123 


brung  up  pets  an'  wasn't  used  t'  bein'  spoke  harsh 
to;  'tany  rate,  they  gits  peeved  an'  here  I  be. 
Was  yo'  all  jes'  droppin'  in  t'  make  a  mornin' 
call  —  er  what?  Yo'll  hev  t'  'scuse  my  not  shak- 
in'  hands  with  yuh,  but  I'm  some  discommoded 
an'  hindered!" 

"We  came  over  from  the  mine  to  see  if  there 
isn't  some  way  that  can  be  found  to  stop  the 
fighting,"  said  Whitey,  earnestly.  "John  Big 
Moose  says  that  they  won't  give  in  an  inch,  be 
cause  they  own  the  mine  —  a  man  named  Bab- 
cock  discovered  it  and  gave  it  to  them  when  he 
died.  But  I  said  that  maybe  you  and  your  In 
dians  didn't  know  that,  and  that  you  were  will 
ing  to  be  reasonable.  Of  course,  I  didn't  know 
that  you  were  the  white  man,  Mr.  Crowley." 

The  Indians  had  gathered  around  and  it  was 
evident  that  some  of  them  understood  what  was 
being  said;  but  they  waited  for  the  talk  to  pro 
ceed  between  Whitey  and  Crowley. 

"Well,"  smiled  Crowley,  "I  don't  know  as  I've 
got  nuthin'  to  say  'bout  whut's  to  be  did  er  not 
did  —  jes'  now,  I  ain't.  I  don't  seem  to  occupy 
no  very  high  position  in  a-thor'ty,  not  in  this 

124 


CROWLEY 


camp,  I  don't!  But  mebbe  'f  I  was  t'  be  on  tied 
an'  'lowed  t'  discuss  th'  matter,  we  might  come  t' 
some  understandin'.  Kin  thet  pal  o'  your'n  speak 
th'  lingo  o'  these  here  onregenerate  heathens? 
'F  he  kin,  tell  'im  t'  put  th'  matter  up  to  'em." 

Thus  appealed  to,  Injun  resorted  to  his  hand- 
talk  and  thus  explained  the  situation.  He  met 
with  no  enthusiasm  in  regard  to  a  conference 
with  the  Dakotas  at  the  mine;  and,  as  far  as  let 
ting  Crowley  loose,  there  was  "nothing  doing." 

It  was  scarcely  necessary  to  interpret  what 
the  Indians  had  said  in  reply  to  his  proposition, 
for  their  sinister  faces  and  the  stolid  opposition 
in  their  gestures  and  manner  could  be  easily  un 
derstood.  Both  Whitey  and  Crowley  watched 
their  faces  anxiously,  and  could  gain  no  encour 
agement  therefrom.  But  Whitey  was  not  the 
kind  that  gives  up  easily;  he  had  been  in  difficult 
places  before  and  had  won  out,  and  he  might  do 
so  again. 

"Why  don't  you  act  reasonable?"  he  said,  fac 
ing  the  braves.  "What  do  you  want  to  kill  each 
other  for?  If  you  go  over  there  and 'talk  to 
John  Big  Moose,  I  know  he'll  do  what's  fair." 

125 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

Injun  explained  Whitey's  words.  The  name  of 
John  Big  Moose  seemed  to  create  an  impression 
among  the  Indians,  and  there  was  some  nodding 
and  whispering  that  meant  the  name  had  a  mean 
ing  to  them. 

"Look  here,  kid,"  said  Crowley,  while  this  was 
going  on,  "I  reckon  I'm  in  about  as  Dutch  as 
a  skunk  at  a  camp-meetin',  an'  I  don't  want  t' 
see  yo'  come  t'  harm  on  my  account.  Now,  'f  I 
was  yo' — " 

One  of  the  braves  came  menacingly  to  Injun, 
and  demanded,  in  the  hand-talk,  "How  many  of 
the  Dakotas  are  guarding  the  mine?" 

Injun  ignored  thebraveand,  turning  to  Whitey, 
he  repeated  the  Indian's  question. 

Without  any  hesitation  Whitey  said,  "Tell 
him  something  less  than  fifty!"  Injun  gestured 
Whitey's  words  —  at  least,  he  gestured  what  he 
thought  were  Whitey's  words!  And  the  answer 
seemed  to  create  a  considerable  change  of  senti 
ment  among  the  braves.  They  themselves  num 
bered  about  fifteen,  and  if  there  were  fifty  men 
guarding  the  mine,  it  would  be  folly  to  try  to 
rush  them  in  their  intrenched  position,  or  even 

126 


CROWLEY 


to  win  the  mine  from  them  in  any  other  way. 
This  put  a  new  face  on  the  matter  in  two  ways, 
and  both  Whitey  and  Crowley  soon  became  alive 
to  it :  it  might  end  hostilities,  as  far  as  an  actual 
conflict  between  the  two  bands  of  Indians  were 
concerned,  but  it  did  not  better  the  situation  for 
Crowley  or  even  for  themselves.  If  the  Crows, 
feeling  themselves  hopelessly  outnumbered,  con 
cluded  that  further  efforts  were  useless  and  that 
they  must  withdraw,  naturally  their  resentment 
against  Crowley  would  be  increased,  and  this 
might  extend  to  the  boys  also. 

"I  tol'  'em  the'  wa'rn't  more'n  ten  er  twelve," 
said  Crowley,  with  a  grin  in  which  there  was  no 
mirth.  "  I  reck'n  they  won't  feel  none  too  cordial 
towards  me  fer  gittin'  into  a  mess  like  thet. 
But  it  can't  be  helped,  son.  Yo'  done  whut  yo* 
figgered  was  best." 

"As  far  as  we're  concerned,"  said  Whitey, 
with  a  puzzled  face,  "I  guess  I  made  a  mistake. 
I  guess  the  truth  is  better  than  a  lie,  any  time, 
no  matter  what  the  advantages  seem  to  be  for 
telling  one.  Can  you  make  out  what  they  are 
talking  about,  Injun?" 

127 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

The  braves  had  withdrawn  some  distance 
from  the  tree  to  which  Crowley  was  tied,  and 
seemed  to  be  discussing  the  matter  with  consider 
able  bitterness,  and  the  argument  was  more  or 
less  heated.  Although  Injun  could  not  under 
stand  the  Crow  tongue,  he  was  an  Indian.  He 
knew  Indian  nature,  and  he  knew  that  the  Crows 
meant  mischief.  So  he  expressed  himself. 

"It  don't  look  any  too  good  for  us  in' any 
event,"  said  Whitey.  "What  do  you  think  we 
better  do?"  he  asked. 

"Me  cut  white  man  loose,"  whispered  Injun, 
as  he  edged  toward  the  tree  and  then  slipped  be 
hind  it.  Reaching  into  his  shirt,  the  boy  took 
out  his  hunting-knife,  and  a  few  slashes  served 
to  release  Crowley  from  his  bonds.  That  he  was 
not  observed  was  not  strange,  as  the  braves  were 
engaged  in  a  heated  debate  and  there  were  two 
or  three  trees  that  partially  intervened  between 
them  and  the  group  at  the  tree.  Crowley  cau 
tiously  shook  his  limbs  loose  from  the  rope  — 
fortunately  he  had  been  bound  but  a  short  time 
and  his  legs  and  arms  were  not  yet  numb. 

"Good  eye!"  he  whispered  to  Injun.  "Now 
128 


CROWLEY 


70'  two  beat  it  as  fast  as  yo'  kin  down  to  the 
right.  The'  ain't  a  chance  in  th'  world  o'  you 
squarin'  things.  I  got  a  gun  in  my  shirt  thet  they 
overlooked  when  they  was  a-hog-tiein'  of  me, 
an'  I'll  slip  after  yo'.  'F  they  gits  wise  yo'  keep 
on  goin'  lickety-split  hell-bent  fer  'lection,  an'  I'll 
lam  off  in  th'  other  direction  an'  try  to  stan'  'em 
off  till  yo'  all  gits  cl'ar.  They  want  me  more  7n 
they  want  yo'  all,  an'  yo'  kin  giv'  'em  quite 
a  race  in  them  woods.  Beat  it,  now.  Don't  waste 
no  time  botherin'  'bout  me!" 

Injun  and  Whitey  slipped  away  as  noiselessly 
as  possible,  and  had  gone  more  than  two  or  three 
hundred  yards  down  the  slope  and  out  of  sight 
among  the  trees  where  they  could  run  at  top 
speed  without  regard  to  noise,  before  they  heard 
a  rumpus  back  of  them  on  the  hill,  and  several 
shots  fired.  Injun  led  the  way,  and  Whitey 
endeavored  to  step  exactly  in  his  footprints,  as 
far  as  possible.  Injun's  quick  eye  and  his  experi 
ence  in  going  through  the  woods,  avoiding  treach 
erous  places  and  obstructions,  stood  them  in  good 
stead;  and  in  a  few  moments  the  boys  felt  that 
they  had  left  pursuit  far  behind,  if,  indeed,  there 

129 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

had  ever  been  any  in  their  direction.  The  band 
had  evidently  confined  its  efforts  to  the  recap 
ture  of  Crowley,  for  the  shots  that  still  kept  up 
sounded  farther  and  farther  away.  But  Injun  did 
not  for  an  instant  slacken  the  pace  that  he  was 
setting,  nor  did  he  forget  to  bear  around  toward 
the  left  —  a  course  that  would  carry  them  in  the 
general  direction  of  the  mine,  though  some  dis 
tance  below  it  on  the  slope  to  the  valley. 

It  was  a  question  whether  to  make  for  the  mine 
and  trust  their  fortunes  with  John  Big  Moose 
and  his  men,  or,  now  that  they  were  free  of  the 
whole  mix-up,  to  continue  on  their  way  back  to 
the  camp  where  they  had  left  their  horses,  some 
ten  or  twelve  miles  away.  One  thing,  more  than 
anything  else,  argued  that  they  return  to  the 
mine,  and  that  was  the  fact  that  they  were  en 
tirely  unarmed  except  for  the  hunting-knife  that 
Injun  had  secreted  in  his  shirt;  and  the  long  hike 
through  the  wilds  without  gun  or  revolver  did  not 
look  attractive.  While  there  probably  would  be 
no  occasion  to  protect  their  lives  with  gun  or 
rifle,  yet  there  might  be;  and  when  you  need  a 
gun  in  the  wilderness,  you  need  it  mighty  bad! 

130 


CROWLEY 


On  the  contrary,  if  they  did  go  back  to  the  mine, 
they  would  again  be  involved  in  anything  in  the 
way  of  a  scrimmage  that  occurred. 

It  seemed  likely,  from  what  Injun  had  been 
able  to  make  out  while  watching  the  pow-wow 
of  the  Crows,  that  the  braves  were  skeptical  as  to 
the  number  of  the  defenders  of  the  mine.  It  was 
likely  that  they  would  at  least  make  an  effort  to 
find  out  the  strength  of  the  Dakotas,  and  if  they 
learned  the  truth,  they  would  undoubtedly  at 
tack.  As  far  as  being  of  any  assistance  to  Crowley 
was  concerned,  they  were  helpless.  The  only  pos 
sible  way  of  doing  anything  for  him  would  be  to 
reach  the  ranch  and  send  out  a  rescue  expedi 
tion;  and  the  time  that  this  would  consume  would 
make  the  expedition  useless.  Long  before  the 
time  the  expedition  could  even  get  under  way 
from  the  Bar  O  ranch,  Crowley  either  would  be 
in  the  hands  of  the  Indians  or  would  have  made 
his  escape  by  his  own  efforts. 

Very  often,  in  matters  of  this  kind,  the  deci 
sion  is  not  left  to  those  most  interested,  but  is 
decided  for  them  by  events  of  a  most  unexpected 
character.  That  was  what  happened  in  this  case. 


CHAPTER  XII 
TREED  BY  A  GRIZZLY 

"I  CAN'T  see  making  that  trip  back  to  the  camp 
without  any  guns,"  said  Whitey,  as  the  boys 
made  their  way  over  a  particularly  rough  piece 
of  the  mountain-side,  "and  what's  more,  I  don't 
want  to  lose  them,  either.  If  we  let  them  stay  at 
the  mine  now,  we'll  never  have  a  chance  to  get 
them.  And  yet,  now  that  we're  out  of  it,  it  seems 
foolish  to  get  into  it  all  again.  What  do  you  think 
about  it,  Injun?" 

Before  Injun  had  time  to  reply,  something 
happened.  He  stopped  suddenly  and  caught 
Whitey's  arm. 

"B'ar!" whispered  Injun, excitedly.  "Come!" 
The  boys  were  crossing  an  open  patch  of  ground 
that  was  almost  entirely  bare  of  trees.  All  about 
them  were  huge  boulders,  varying  from  the  size 
of  a  cobblestone  to  others  that  were  twenty  feet 
in  diameter.  Many  of  them  were  rounded  and 
their  surfaces  slippery,  as  though  they  had  been 
churned  together  for  centuries  in  some  great  con- 

132 


TREED  BY  A  GRIZZLY 


vulsion  of  Nature  until  the  sharp  irregularities 
had  been  worn  away,  and  their  surfaces  almost 
polished.  The  task  of  traversing  this  spot  was  not 
an  easy  one  under  any  conditions,  and  anything 
like  haste  or  speed  was  almost  out  of  the  ques 
tion.  The  way  required  careful  picking. 

Injun  had  been  the  first  to  see  the  bear,  and  he 
had,  of  course,  cast  about  him  for  a  place  of  ref 
uge,  but  at  first  glance  none  offered,  and  he  and 
Whitey  tried  to  crouch  down  behind  one  of  the 
boulders,  hoping  that  they  might  escape  the 
bear's  notice.  This  hope  was  vain,  however,  for 
before  they  could  scurry  to  the  concealment  of 
the  nearest  boulder,  the  bear  sighted  them,  and 
came  lumbering  for  them.  The  privacy  of  his 
den  had  been  invaded  by  two  Indians,  and  some 
body  was  going  to  suffer  for  it !  He  had  missed 
the  Indians  in  some  way,  but  here  were  two  boys 
who  would  do  just  as  well! 

There  was  very  little  time  to  make  much  of  a 
choice  of  a  place  of  refuge,  but  the  bear  was 
coming  toward  them  at  a  rapid  pace,  and  he  was 
not  more  than  a  hundred  yards  away  when  he 
had  first  seen  them.  But  the  quick-witted  Injun 

133 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

seized  upon  the  only  opportunity  in  sight.  Some 
twenty  or  thirty  feet  away  was  a  large  and  nearly 
round  boulder  whose  top  was  somewhat  more 
than  ten  feet  from  the  ground.  The  boulder  had 
been  deposited  near  to  a  sheer  bank  from  which 
grew  a  tough  and  dwarfed  tree  that  had  been 
broken  and  split  by  lightning  almost  in  half.  Its 
one  remaining  limb  extended  out  over  the 
boulder. 

Calling  Whitey  to  follow  him,  Injun  ran 
quickly  up  the  bank,  sheer  as  it  was,  and  leaping 
up  caught  this  limb  and  worked  his  way  along  it 
hanging  by  his  hands,  until  he  could  drop  on  to 
the  boulder.  Whitey  lost  no  time  in  following 
Injun's  lead,  and  practiced  as  he  was  in  gymna 
sium  feats,  it  was  an  easy  matter.  He  was  none 
too  quick,  however,  for  even  as  he  made  his  way 
along  the  limb,  the  bear  rushed  underneath  him 
and  rearing  on  his  hind  legs,  made  frantic  at 
tempts  to  grab  the  dangling  boy.  But  Whitey 
was  some  little  distance  out  of  the  bear's  reach, 
and  in  a  moment  he  dropped  safely  upon  the 
top  of  the  boulder  beside  Injun. 

Safe?  That  remained  to  be  seen!  The  bear 
134 


TREED  BY  A  GRIZZLY 


turned  and  rushed  at  the  boulder,  standing  on 
his  hind  legs  and  making  frantic  efforts  to  draw 
himself  up.  But  the  hard  and  smooth  surface 
of  the  boulder  and  the  fact  that  it  bulged  slightly 
at  the  top  gave  the  bear,  gigantic  as  he  was, 
little  chance  for  a  hold.  The  fact  that  his  first 
few  attempts  to  mount  the  rock  were  futile  did 
not  seem  to  discourage  the  bear  in  the  least,  and 
he  kept  right  on  trying.  There  was  his  prey, 
only  a  few  feet  beyond  the  reach  of  his  claws,  and 
the  fact  that  he  could  not  quite  reach  them,  threw 
him  into  a  rage.  His  red  eyes  gleamed  wickedly 
and  his  great  mouth,  with  its  long,  sharp  teeth, 
yawned  and  snapped  viciously.  He  literally 
danced  around  the  boulder,  in  his  rage  and  eager 
ferocity;  and  if  the  situation  had  not  been  so 
serious,  his  actions  would  have  been  comical. 

"Can  he  make  it?"  asked  Whitey,  his  face 
pale  and  his  breath  coming  fast. 

"Dunno,"  said  Injun  stolidly. 

And,  indeed,  there  was  a  very  grave  doubt 
about  it.  While  his  attempts  had  been  futile,  so 
far,  there  was  a  big  chance  that,  circling  the  rock 
as  he  was,  the  brute  might  find  a  lodgment  for 

135 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

those  powerful   claws   that  would   suffice   for 
drawing  himself  up. 

Injun  took  the  knife  from  his  shirt  and  knelt 
on  the  rock  as  near  to  the  edge  as  he  dared;  and 
as  the  bear  went  around  the  boulder,  Injun  faced 
him,  ready  to  slash  at  the  paws  if  they  found  a 
hold. 

This  was,  indeed,  a  dangerous  business;  for  a 
bear  is  an  expert  boxer,  and  is  remarkably  quick; 
and  such  is  his  strength  that  one  of  his  little 
dabs,  if  it  hit  Injun's  wrist,  would  probably 
knock  him  from  the  rock.  But  Injun  knew  this, 
and  he  was  taking  very  few  chances ;  he  held  the 
knife  as  one  holds  a  sword,  and  if  the  bear's  slap 
hit  anything,  it  would  only  be  the  knife. 

"Look  out  for  him!"  said  Whitey,  as  the  bear 
made  a  remarkably  quick  slap  at  the  knife.  "  If 
he  ever  hits  that  knife,  he  may  knock  you  off  if 
you  have  too  tight  a  hold  on  it !  Gee !  If  we  only 
had  a  rifle!  Even  the  six-shooter  would  help 
some  at  this  short  range!" 
'•  But  Injun  was  handling  the  matter  very  well, 
and  on  two  occasions  had  been  able  to  slash  the 
bear's  paws  slightly.  Had  the  bear  been  able  to 

136 


INJUN  FACED  HIM,  READY  TO  SLASH  AT  THE  PAWS  IF  THEY 
FOUND  A  HOLD 


TREED  BY  A  GRIZZLY 


obtain  a  hold,  it  is  probable  that  the  knife  would 
have  made  very  little  difference  as  far  as  making 
him  let  go  was  concerned.  A  knife  is  a  pitiful 
thing  to  fight  a  bear  with,  and  the  slashes  that 
Injun  had. inflicted  on  the  bear's  paws,  although 
they  drew  blood,  served  little  purpose  except 
to  further  enrage  the  animal.  He  roared  and 
snapped  and  danced  with  increased  vigor  and 
fury  after  receiving  them. 

For  at  least  ten  minutes  the  bear  did  not  abate 
his  attempts  to  get  at  the  boys;  but  each  addi 
tional  minute  served  to  increase  the  boys'  con 
fidence,  though  it  did  not  particularly  discourage 
the  bear.  But  even  if  it  were  an  assured  fact  that 
the  bear  could  not  get  at  them  then,  it  was  by  no> 
means  a  very  pleasant  situation.  The  boys  knew 
that  a  bear  has  a  lot  of  patience,  and  the  chances 
were  that  he  would  wait  quite  a  while  before  he 
abandoned  something  that  was  so  nearly  withia 
his  reach. 

"I've  heard  that  bears,"  said  Whitey,  after  a. 
time,  "when  they  had  a  man  treed  just  sat  down 
and  waited  —  maybe  for  days  —  until  the  man 
got  exhausted  and  fell  out  of  the  tree.  This  brute 

137 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

looks  as  though  he  would  never  give  up!"  he 
added,  as  the  bear  made  a  particularly  strenuous 
attempt  to  climb  up.  "I  wonder  if  looking  him 
in  the  eye  will  do  any  good  ? "  he  continued.  "I've 
heard  that  wild  animals  can't  stand  the  human 
eye — the  books  say  they  'quail  before  it.'  It 
works  with  a  lion,  so  they  say.  He  backs  down 
1 —  if  you  get  him  right.  I'm  going  to  see  if  this 
bird  will  do  a  little  quailing!"  And  Whitey  got 
down  on  his  knees  and  tried  to  look  the  bear  in 
the  eye.  He  didn't  have  the  slightest  difficulty 
in  getting  the  bear's  eyes;  in  fact,  the  bear 
seemed  to  welcome  an  exchange  of  glares,  and 
his  wicked  little  eyes  gleamed  as  he  stared  at 
Whitey  and  renewed  his  efforts  to  mount  on  the 
rock. 

Whitey  drew  back,  involuntarily;  looking 
into  the  face  of  an  enraged  bear  at  close  range 
isn't  pleasant! 

"I  guess  if  there  was  any  quailing  about  it, 
I  did  it!"  he  said,  disgustedly.  "I'd  like  to  see 
the  folks  that  make  'em  quail  in  the  books  take 
a  crack  at  this  baby!  Don't  talk  to  me  about 
the  power  of  the  human  eye !  It  might  work  on 

138 


TREED  BY  A  GRIZZLY 


a  rabbit  or  on  white  mice  or  something,  but  not 
on  bears!" 

After  a  moment  the  bear  lowered  himself  to 
all  fours,  and  sat  on  his  haunches,  seldom  taking 
his  eyes  off  the  boys,  and  apparently  trying  to 
figure  out  some  other  way  to  get  at  them. 

"Gwan  home,  you  big  lummox!"  yelled 
Whitey,  making  threatening  gestures  at  the  bear. 
"Gwan  home !  Somebody '11  sneak  in  and  get  your 
cubs !  Gwan !  You  moth-eaten  lookin'  automo 
bile  rug!  Beat  it,  while  the  beating's  good!" 

Far  from  sending  the  bear  about  his  business, 
this  tirade  served  only  to  make  the  bear  renew 
his  efforts  to  scale  the  rock,  and  Injun  managed 
to  inflict  another  cut  on  his  paw.  It  took  some 
time  for  him  to  get  over  this  insult,  and  the  bear 
kept  up  his  dancing  and  clawing  for  some  min 
utes,  but  finally  got  tired  of  it  and  went  and  sat 
down  again.  Then  he  walked  around  the  rock 
several  times,  sniffing  and  trying  to  think  up  a 
new  method  of  attack. 

"Maybe  he  wants  to  be  petted,"  said  Whitey 
humorously. 

"Woof!"  responded  the  bear,  and  he  again 
139 


made  an  attempt  to  climb  on  to  the  rock.  But  in 
a  moment  he  tired  of  it,  and  resumed  his  seat  a 
short  distance  from  the  rock. 

"I  can't  seem  to  suit  him,  no  matter  what  I 
do!"  said  Whitey.  "Gee!  but  he's  got  a  mean 
disposition !  And  he  looks  as  though  he  were  go 
ing  to  sit  right  there  for  a  week !  I  wonder  if  it 
would  do  any  good  to  shout  for  help?  Some  of 
John  Big  Moose's  men  might  come  and  get  us 
out  of  this." 

Injun  shook  his  head:  "Crow  mebbe  come, 
too,"  he  said;  and  from  his  manner,  Whitey  saw 
that  his  companion  regarded  that  possibility  as 
worse  than  facing  the  bear  alone. 

Injun  still  knelt  on  the  rock,  never  taking  his 
eyes  from  the  bear,  but  Whitey  had  risen  to  his 
feet.  Suddenly  he  clutched  Injun's  shoulder. 

"Look!"  he  said  excitedly.  "Look  what's 
coming!" 

Injun  glanced  quickly  and  followed  the  direc 
tion  of  Whitey's  pointing  finger.  Over  the  rocks, 
not  a  hundred  yards  away,  was  another  bear 
headed  directly  for  them! 


CHAPTER  XIII 
A  FRIEND  INDEED 

"FoR  the  love  o'  Mike!"  gasped  Whitey,  as  the 
two  boys  watched  the  newcomer  shuffle  his  un 
certainly  certain  way  directly  toward  them. 
"Seems  as  though  we  were  in  bad  enough  as  it 
was,  without  reinforcements  coming  up  to  help 
this  brute!" 

Injun  made  no  reply,  but  continued  to  watch 
the  new  arrival  closely.  Injun  knew  something 
about  bears  and  other  wild  animals;  and  one  of 
the  things  he  knew  was  that  two  bears  will  never 
voluntarily  consent  to  an  equal  and  peaceable 
division  of  any  food  or  prey  that  may  come  their 
way.  Even  in  captivity  this  is  true.  Watch  the 
bears  in  a  zoo,  and  you  will  jfind  that  at  feeding- 
time  the  biggest  bear  will  try  to  take  unto  him 
self  all  the  food  that  is  put  into  the  den,  and  will 
proceed  to  eat  all  he  can  of  it,  while  the  smaller 
bears  sit  around  and  watch  and  whine  in  weak 
and  pathetic  protest.  The  others  can  have  what 

141 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

he  leaves!  The  best  and  happiest  of  "happy 
families,"  that  is  the  pride  of  every  circus  or 
animal  show,  will  quarrel  over  food;  and  when 
the  happy  family  is  fed,  a  man  has  to  stand  there 
with  a  club  to  keep  them  "happy." 

Injun  was  not  entirely  sure  that  the  new  bear 
was  to  be  considered  as  "reinforcements."  And 
after  a  moment  or  two  Whitey  began  to  have 
his  doubts  about  it,  too. 

When  the  new  arrival  was  sufficiently  close 
to  allow  their  jailer  to  get  his  scent,  their  "old 
friend"  diverted  his  attention  from  the  boys; 
and  getting  down  on  all  fours,  he  faced  about  in 
the  direction  of  the  oncoming  bear,  and  began  to 
sniff  and  snort  and  growl  and  wave  his  head  from 
side  to  side,  and  advance  to  meet  him.  He  didn't 
intend  to  divide  the  boys  with  anybody! 

"Looks  to  me  like  they're  going  to  fight!"  said 
Whitey,  excitedly.  "Gee!"  he  continued,  "if 
they  do,  it  ought  to  be  some  scrap ! "  And  then 
he  added,  as  he  thought  it  over,  "We  seem  to 
be  like  the  birds  in  a  turkey-shoot.  No  mat 
ter  which  bear  wins,  we're  going  to  get  it  in  the 
neck,  anyhow!  We  belong  to  the  winner!" 

142 


A  FRIEND  INDEED 


"Ugh!"  grunted  Injun.  "Mebbe  ain't  goin' 
be  no  winner!" 

"Do  you  mean  that  if  they  fight,  there  won't 
be  enough  left  of  the  winner  to  make  us  any 
trouble?"  asked  Whitey,  a  faint  hope  fluttering 
within  him. 

"Dunno,"  said  Injun.  "Mebbe  fin'  out." 

By  this  time  there  could  be  no  doubt  that  the 
first  bear  intended  to  chase  the  other  one  away  if 
he  could,  for  his  manner  indicated  anything  but 
a  cordial  welcome.  He  hadn't  invited  any  other 
bear  to  breakfast  [and  he  didn't  propose  to  ex 
tend  any  such  hospitality.  Besides,  as  he  figured 
it,  there  wouldn't  be  enough  boy  to  go  'round  if 
there  were  going  to  be  company,  and  he  never 
cared  for  banquets,  anyhow.  He  advanced  stead 
ily  and  belligerently  toward  the  other  bear, 
roaring  and  waving  his  head  and  scratching  up 
the  stones  and  generally  misbehaving  himself. 

What  the  other  bear  thought  about  it  will 
probably  never  be  known.  Indeed,  it  was  doubt 
ful  whether  he  had  seen  the  boys  at  all,  and  con 
sequently  the  breakfast  part  of  it  cut  no  figure 
with  him.  But  he  undoubtedly  did  understand 

H3 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  a  gentleman  who 
was  looking  for  trouble,  and  he  was  the  kind  of 
a  bear  that  when  trouble  came  his  way,  he  gave 
it  a  hug.  Up  to  date  he  had  done  very  little  back 
ing-out,  and  trouble  was  his  dish !  He  may  have 
had  his  troubles  that  day,  too;  and  as  I  have 
said  before,  when  a  bear  is  peeved,  he  takes  out 
his  wrath  on  the  first  thing  that  comes  along,  re 
gardless  of  what  that  thing  is. 

At  any  rate,  he  was  able-bodied  and  knew  his 
rights,  and  he  didn't  propose  to  be  "buffaloed" 
or  scared  by  a  lot  of  bellowing  and  scratching-up 
of  stones.  He  could  bellow  and  scratch  stones  a 
little  himself,  as  he  proceeded  to  demonstrate. 
He  didn't  know  a  thing  about "  turning  the  other 
cheek."  And  he  said  so,  too  —  as  plain  as  one 
bear  can  say  it  to  another. 

"Gee!"  whispered  Whitey,  excitedly,  "we're 
going  to  see  something!  This  is  going  to  be  a 
regular  fight!" 

The  two  bears  lost  little  time  in  getting  to 
gether.  They  had  no  managers  to  squabble 
about  the  weight  and  the  referee  and  the  rules 
and  the  loser's  end  and  the  price  of  seats  and  the 

144 


A  FRIEND  INDEED 


number  of  rounds.  The  weights  were  pretty 
nearly  equal,  it  was  "winner-take-all,"  and 
neither  of  them  gave  a  hoot  about  the  "gate." 
They  had  no  need  of  a  referee,  for  they  fought 
under  "slaughter-house"  rules,  with  no  holds 
barred.  And  another  thing,  this  was  no  "frame- 
up."  Neither  had  any  intention  of  letting  the 
other  "stay,"  so  as  to  stage  another  meeting! 
This  fight  was  going  to  be  on  the  level  and  to  a 
finish.  The  gallery  didn't  influence  them  a  bit. 
Many  a  man  will  fight  — •  if  somebody  is  looking 
at  him.  It's  a  good  man  who  will  fight  no  mat 
ter  whether  any  one  is  looking  at  him  or  not.  A 
bear  is  that  kind.  There  is  no  four-flush  about 
him. 

Every  bear  is  an  expert  boxer  —  it  is  born  in 
him  and  he  practices  all  the  time.  To  lead  and 
block  and  duck  and  side-step  are  parts  of  his 
daily  life,  and  are  perfectly  natural  movements 
for  him  to  use.  And  as  they  came  together,  the 
two  bears  rose  on  their  haunches  and  walloped 
each  other  with  blows  that  would  have  broken 
the  neck  of  the  strongest  lion  in  the  world.  They 
sparred  and  bit  and  clawed,  each  endeavoring  to 

145 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

bring  the  other  into  his  embrace  so  that  with  the 
powerful  claws  of  his  hind  feet  he  might  disem 
bowel  his  enemy.  But  with  equal  cleverness  and 
strength,  neither  could  get  any  decided  advan 
tage.  But  they  were  doing  plenty  of  damage  to 
each  other;  the  blood  ran  freely  from  their 
wounds,  and  the  air  and  ground  were  full  of  fur. 

The  two  boys  watched  the  fight  with  breath 
less  interest.  It  is  perhaps  doubtful  whether, 
had  the  chance  to  slip  away  unnoticed  been  pre 
sented,  they  would  have  availed  themselves  of 
it!  They  had  forgotten  their  dangerous  predica 
ment  in  their  excitement!  They  were  going  to 
see  it  through! 

They  were  doing  considerable  "rooting,"  too, 
—  for  the  newcomer,  of  course.  As  the  fight  pro 
gressed,  they  had  come  to  regard  him  as  their 
savior  —  if  savior  they  were  to  have.  He  had,  at 
least,  broken  up  the  little  tete-a-tete  that  the 
first  bear  had  been  having  with  them,  and  if 
they  should  eventually  escape,  it  would  probably 
be  due  to  his  interference. 

"Gee!"  gasped  Whitey,  as  the  intruder  landed 
a  tremendous  and  resounding  cuif  high  up  on  the 

146 


A  FRIEND  INDEED 


other's  head,  and  which  took  most  of  an  ear  and 
considerable  hide,  "that  was  a  peach!  I'll  bet 
there  was  a  headache  in  that  one!  Give  it  to 
him !  I  told  him  to  beat  it  while  the  beating  was 
good,  and  he  wouldn't  do  it!  I'll  bet  he  wishes 
he  had  taken  my  advice !  Sock  him  a  couple  more 
like  that  one  and  you  get  the  decision!" 

After  a  moment,  when  the  bears  had  fought 
themselves  some  distance  away  from  the  rock, 
Whitey  looked  about  him. 

"Have  we  got  a  chance  to  get  away,  Injun? 
They  don't  seem  to  be  paying  much  attention 
to  us." 

Injun  shook  his  head,  decidedly.  He  knew 
that  if  they  made  any  break  for  liberty  there  was 
a  chance  that  both  bears  would  forget  their 
quarrel  and  take  after  them  —  "A  b'ar  bein'  a 
queer  animile  an'  y'  can't  always  figger  him," 
as  Bill  Jordan  had  remarked  in  one  of  his  talks 
to  the  boys.  And  the  wisdom  of  this  was  appar 
ent  a  few  moments  later  when  Whitey,  in  his 
excitement,  slipped,  and  would  have  gone  off  the 
rock  had  not  Injun  caught  him,  and  dragged  him 
back  to  safety.  It  was  a  narrow  escape,  for  there 

147 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

could  be  no  possible  doubt  that  the  bear  that  had 
chased  them  on  to  the  rock,  and  who  probably 
regarded  them  as  his  own  property,  made  a 
slight  but  unmistakable  movement  as  though  to 
leave  the  fight  and  give  his  attention  to  the  boy. 
His  slight  carelessness,  however,  cost  him 
something;  for  the  other  bear,  taking  advantage 
of  his  momentary  forgetfulness,  succeeded  in  get 
ting  a  hold  upon  him  that  permitted  him  to  rip 
his  opponent  down  the  front  with  his  hind  claws. 
A  more  than  usual  ferocious  roar  from  the  victim 
gave  evidence  of  how  the  blow  had  told,  as  well  as 
the  welter  of  blood  that  followed  it.  But  far  from 
lessening  the  attack  of  the  bear,  the  wound 
seemed  to  increase  it.  He  tore  into  his  opponent 
with  indescribable  ferocity,  and  for  a  moment 
seemed  to  be  getting  even,  with  a  vengeance. 
But  this  was  only  momentary,  and  was,  no  doubt, 
a  last,  desperate  effort  to  stem  the  tide  that  he 
felt  was  setting  in  against  him.  He  was  making 
a  tremendous  snarling  and  bellowing;  but  in  the 
loudest  roar  there  seemed  to  be  a  note  of  agonized 
fear  that  belied  its  ferocious  challenge.  It  seemed 
the  howl  of  anguish  and  protest  and  hate,  impo- 

148 


tent  and  terror-stricken,  that  most  animals  give 
when  they  know  that  they  are  beaten  and  that 
death  and  destruction  are  inevitable. 

That  rip  down  the  front  had  plainly  been  the 
deciding  blow;  and  in  a  moment,  in  the  very 
midst  of  what  seemed  to  be  a  savage  charge,  the 
bear  turned  tail,  with  a  howl  of  defeat,  and  tried 
to  stagger  away.  He  never  had  a  chance.  Not 
only  was  the  other  bear  upon  him  in  an  instant, 
but  he  was  too  weak  to  run  another  step;  and  he 
sank  in  his  tracks,  dead! 

The  victor  assured  himself  of  this  fact,  and 
when  he  got  through  assuring  himself,  there  was 
not  the  slightest  chance  that  the  other  bear  would 
ever  come  to  life  to  dispute  him  again !  There  are 
no  rules  among  bears  about  hitting  when  one  is 
down !  Then  he  cast  one  look  at  the  boys  — •  he 
was  not  fifty  feet  away  —  took  an  unsteady  step 
toward  them,  but  turned  and  limped  painfully 
away!  When  the  boys  saw  the  front  of  him  as  he 
turned  toward  them,  they  knew  very  well  why 
he  was  willing  to  call  it  a  day  and  go  home!  A 
hundred  yards  from  the  rock,  he,  too,  sank  down 
on  the  ground,  but  the  boys  did  not  go  to  him 

149 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

to  see  if  he  were  dead !  They  had  not  the  slight 
est  curiosity  in  that  direction !  Well  they  remem 
bered  what  Bill  Jordan  had  told  them. 

"When  yo'  hev  killed  a  b'ar,"  said  Bill,  "you 
want  t'  climb  a  tree  an'  set  thar  fer  'bout  a  hour. 
'F  he  don't  move,  in  thet  time,  yo'  climb  down 
an'  run  th'  other  way  as  fast  as  yo'r  legs'll  take 
yo'!  Thet's  th'  way  t'  kill  a  b'ar!" 

When  they  slid  down  off  of  the  rock  neither 
one  of  the  boys  found  that  his  legs  were  any  too 
steady — 'they  had  been  through  considerable 
excitement.  Compelled  to  watch  a  bloody  battle 
between  Titans  of  the  mountains,  in  which  you 
are  the  prize,  is  not  exactly  steadying  to  the 
nerves !  But  such  steadiness  of  leg  as  they  had, 
they  put  to  the  best  advantage,  in  the  way  that 
Bill  Jordan  had  suggested. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
CROWLEY'S  GET-AWAY 

WHEN  Crowley,  gun  in  hand,  stood  beside  the 
tree  in  practically  the  same  position  in  which  he 
had  been  tied,  and  watched  the  boys  as  they  ran 
swiftly  and  silently  down  the  slope,  he  had  the 
satisfaction  of  feeling  that  the  boys  were  pretty 
well  out  of  the  scrape,  and  that  the  Crows  had 
overlooked  the  fact  that  he  still  wore  his  belt  of 
cartridges.  He  had  been  overcome  in  a  rough- 
and-tumble  fight  —  three  or  four  of  the  Crows 
had  pounced  upon  him  unawares  —  and  he  had 
given  them  about  all  they  wanted  to  do  to  get 
him  "hog-tied"  without  doing  more  than  take 
his  six-gun  from  its  holster,  which,  indeed,  they 
had  done  in  the  first  instant  of  their  attack  on 
him.  They  may  not  have  actually  overlooked  the 
belt,  for  a  cartridge-belt  isn't  of  any  great  value 
without  a  gun.  What  they  had  overlooked,  how 
ever,  was  the  gun  that  he  had  concealed  in  his 
shirt.  The  attack  had  been  so  quick,  and  his 
hands  had  been  engaged  in  such  a  manner,  that 


he  had  no  opportunity  to  reach  the  gun  during 
the  struggle.  At  any  rate,  he  was  in  a  position, 
now,  to  give  an  account  of  himself;  and  while 
he  had  little  idea  that  he  would  be  able  to  get 
away  unhurt,  he  knew  that  he  at  least  had  a 
chance. 

He  slipped  behind  the  tree  to  which  he  had 
been  tied  and  keeping  it  in  line  with  the  braves, 
who  were  still  arguing  heatedly  and  seemed  to  be 
taking  a  vote  on  some  question,  he  darted  to  an 
other,  and  another,  until  he  was  some  thirty  or 
forty  yards  away  from  where  he  had  started. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  yell,  as  one  of  the  braves 
saw  that  he  was  missing  from  the  tree;  the  con 
ference  broke  up  hurriedly,  and  the  Indians 
sprang  to  their  feet  and  looked  eagerly  about  to 
locate  the  direction  that  he  had  taken.  They,  of 
course,  believed  him  unarmed,  and  exposed  them 
selves  openly.  A  shot  from  his  revolver  dropped 
one  of  them  in  his  tracks,  and  in  the  confusion 
that  followed,  most  of  the  braves  taking  refuge 
behind  trees,  Crowley  materially  increased  the 
distance  between  them.  The  braves  seemed  in 
doubt  also  as  to  whether  the  shot  had  been  fired 

152 


CROWLEY'S  GET-AWAY 


by  one  of  the  escaped  trio,  or  by  one  of  the 
Dakotas  who  had  followed  the  boys. 

But  the  keen-eyed  Indians  soon  located  Crow- 
ley,  as  he  darted  from  tree  to  tree,  and  with  a 
yell  and  a  fusillade  of  shots  they  started  after 
him.  But  another  shot,  which  took  effect  upon 
the  foremost  of  the  pursuers,  caused  the  others 
to  proceed  with  increased  caution,  and  Crowley 
made  good  use  of  the  hesitation.  He  ran  down 
the  slope,  but  in  a  direction  diagonal  to  that 
taken  by  the  boys  and  to  the  right,  and  every 
moment  he  widened  the  distance  between  him 
self  and  his  pursuers.  It  was  evident  that  they 
had  considerable  respect  for  that  six-gun  of  his, 
after  a  third  shot  had  winged  another  of  the 
braves. 

But  even  with  the  advantage  that  he  now  had, 
and  with  all  the  respect  that  the  Indians  had  for 
his  revolver,  Crowley  knew,  and  the  Crows  knew, 
that  he  had  little  chance  of  eventually  making 
his  escape,  provided  the  red  men  persisted  in  the 
chase.  There  is  not  one  white  man  in  a  hundred 
that  is  a  match  for  the  ordinary  Indian  in  the 
woods;  and  there  is  not  a  white  man  in  the  world 

153 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

that  is  a  match  for  some  Indians  when  it  comes 
to  stalking  each  other  in  the  wilderness. 

But  there  was  one  thing  that  both  parties  over 
looked  —  the  Dakotas  at  the  mine.  They  were 
within  easy  hearing  distance  of  the  shots  that 
the  Crows  had  sent  after  Crowley,  and  neither 
John  Big  Moose  nor  anybody  else  was  going  to 
keep  them  from  seeing  what  was  up. 

The  natural  supposition  was  that  the  Crows 
had  been  attacked  by  somebody,  and  eight  of  the 
Dakotas  went  to  investigate.  And  John  Big 
Moose,  leaving  four  men  on  guard,  followed  after 
them.  They  made  their  way  swiftly  through  the 
woods,  and  soon  came  upon  one  of  the  wounded 
men  who  had  fallen  a  victim  to  Crowley's  gun. 
From  him  no  information  in  regard  to  what  had 
happened  could  be  extracted,  but  John  Big  Moose 
was  not  slow  to  take  advantage  of  the  situation. 
The  chase  after  Crowley  had  left  the  camp  of  the 
Crows  entirely  unprotected,  and  John  and  his 
Indians  proceeded  to  take  possession  of  all  their 
horses,  provisions,  and  equipment  and  transport 
them  forthwith  to  the  mine.  To  say  that  this 
was  what  is  known  as  a  coup  is  putting  it  mildly 

154 


CROWLEY'S  GET-AWAY 


-  and  it  put 

John  Big  Moose  in  a  position  to  dictate  about 
any  terms  that  he  desired. 

"Let  them  chase  their  heads  off  after  the  white 
man !  When  they  come  back  and  find  everything 
gone,  maybe  they  will  listen  to  reason,"  argued 
John. 

There  was  not  a  doubt  in  the  world  that  the 
boys  had  stirred  up  quite  a  mess  in  the  moun 
tains  ! 

In  his  efforts  to  escape,  Crowley  was  greatly 
handicapped  by  the  fact  that  he  was  almost  en 
tirely  ignorant  of  the  lay  of  the  land,  while  it  was 
probable  that  the  Indians  knew  every  foot  of  it. 
At  the  outset  his  only  object  was  to  get  away 
from  where  he  was  — •  anywhere  would  do.  But 
as  he  went  on  and  on,  he  realized  that  at  almost 
any  moment  he  might  run  into  a  something  that 
was  impassable  —  a  precipice  down  which  he 
could  not  climb,  or  a  gulch  that  had  no  outlet 
—  and  thus  he  would  be  compelled  to  retrace  his 
steps,  and  be  forced,  in  all  probability,  to  walk 
right  into  his  pursuers.  And,  therefore,  he  kept 
his  eyes  open  for  any  sort  of  suitable  hiding- 

155 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

place  wherein  he  could  hide  himself  until  he  could 
double  back  on  his  trail  or  until  his  pursuers 
gave  up  the  chase. 

All  the  while  he  was  gradually  descending  the 
mountain,  and  there  were  many  open  spaces  to 
be  traversed,  and  these  were  beset  with  dangers; 
for  while  he  crossed  one  of  the  open  places  he  of 
fered  a  fair  mark  to  the  rifles  that  were  behind 
him.  On  two  occasions,  when  he  thought  that 
perhaps  he  might  have  either  distanced  his  pur 
suers  or  thrown  them  off  his  track,  a  shot  passing 
dangerously  close  to  him  told  him  that  such  was 
not  the  case. 

He  was  at  a  further  disadvantage  in  that  he 
was  armed  only  with  his  six-shooter  with  a  far 
more  limited  range  than  that  of  a  rifle;  and  he 
knew  that  if  once  he  left  the  mountains  and 
started  across  the  open,  rolling  foothills,  the  In 
dians  could  pick  him  off  at  their  leisure,  and  he 
would  be  unable  to  reply  to  their  fire  with  any 
effect.  As  Crowley  figured  it,  "he  was  a  hundred 
miles  from  anywhere,  an'  all  uphill  goin'."  The 
chance  of  meeting  any  party  of  men  who  would  or 
could  rescue  him  was  very  small ;  and  it  would  be 


CROWLEY'S  GET-AWAY 


many  hours  before  darkness  would  come  to  his 
aid.  When  Crowley  told  Whitey  that  he  was  "  in 
Dutch,"  he  had  said  something! 

However,  he  was  vastly  better  off  as  he  was 
now  than  when  tied  to  a  tree,  and  he  had  some 
thing  to  be  thankful  for.  Give  a  man  like  Crowley 
a  six-shooter  and  plenty  of  cartridges,  and  he 
will  face  almost  any  situation  with  some  degree 
of  confidence. 

As  the  little  man  said,  when  he  pulled  his  gun 
on  the  big  bully  who  was  about  to  thrash  him, 
"Hoi5  on,  man!  Don't  come  near  me!  God  Al 
mighty  made  some  men  big  an'  some  men  little 
—  but  Cap'n  Colt,  he  made  all  men  th'  same 
size!" 

As  Crowley  expressed  it,  afterwards,  "Ef  I'd 
'a'  had  a  hoss,  an'  bin  anywhere  a  hoss  c'd  keep 
his  footin',  I  wouldn't  'a'  keered  a  dern  ef  th' 
hull  Piute  Nation  was  after  me!  But  take  it 
from  me,  them  things "  —  indicating  his  high- 
heeled  boots  • —  "  ain't  no  fit  thing  t*  go  gal- 
lopin'  'round  no  mount'n  with!" 

At  one  place,  he  saw  a  small,  natural  cave  that 
seemed  to  offer  a  refuge,  and  he  ran  toward  it, 

157 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

estimating  its  advantages  and  disadvantages. 
Once  in  there,  he  might  put  up  a  fight  against 
big  odds;  but  he  would  be  like  a  rat  in  a  trap,  and 
there  is  such  a  thing  as  smoking  a  man  out  of  a 
hole  like  that.  It  might  be  very  shallow  and 
afford  little  protection,  and,  besides,  the  opening 
was  so  obvious  that  the  pursuing  Indians  would 
never  pass  it  without  investigating  it;  and  he 
concluded  to  pass  up  the  cave  on  the  chance  of 
finding  something  better. 

As  it  turned  out,  it  was  a  wise  choice.  Within 
a  few  moments  after  Crowley  had  disregarded  the 
cave  and  had  gone  on  his  way,  two  of  his  pur 
suers  came  to  the  spot,  and  immediately  pro 
ceeded  to  investigate  the  cave.  They  entered 
it  cautiously,  but  in  about  a  minute  there  was 
a  wild  and  panic-stricken  yell  from  within  the 
cave,  and  the  two  Indians  came  dashing  out  at 
a  pace  that  challenged  all  sprint  records,  and 
bounded  away  over  the  rocks  in  different  di 
rections. 

The  cause  of  the  panic  appeared  in  the  opening, 
and  one  good  look  at  him  was  enough  to  justify 
any  haste  in  going  away  from  there  that  the  two 


CROWLEY'S  GET-AWAY 


Indians  had  displayed.  It  was  a  huge  grizzly 
bear,  weighing,  perhaps,  a  thousand  pounds,  and 
he  was  not  in  any  very  amiable  mood,  either. 
In  fact,  he  was  "mad  clear  through."  That  he 
resented  this  intrusion  on  his  privacy  could  not 
be  doubted;  and  that  he  intended  to  make  some 
body  suffer  for  it  was  equally  evident.  The  fact 
that  the  Indians  had  taken  two  directions  made 
him  hesitate  for  a  moment,  but  after  a  prelimi 
nary  snort  he  shambled  and  shuffled  away  over  the 
rocks  at  a  speed  that  was  most  deceiving.  He  was 
moving  a  good  deal  faster  than  he  looked  to  be. 

It  is  probable  that  a  grizzly  can  go  over  rough 
mountainous  country  faster  than  any  other  ani 
mal.  He  is  sure-footed,  and  his  huge  weight, 
tough  hide,  and  thick  coat  make  almost  any  ob 
stacle  seem  trivial.  Underbrush  and  briars  and 
even  small  saplings  mean  nothing  to  him,  but 
are  brushed  aside  or  trampled  down  as  though 
they  were  paper. 

And  a  grizzly  is,  too,  perhaps  the  most  revenge 
ful  of  all  beasts,  and  nurses  a  seemingly  perpetual 
grouch.  When  he  is  aroused  and  angry,  he  takes 
it  out  on  the  first  thing  that  comes  in  his  way. 

159 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

If  he  can't  get  the  object  of  his  wrath,  something 
else  will  do  just  as  well  —  he  isn't  particular 
what  it  is.  If  he  couldn't  get  those  Indians  that 
came  into  his  home  without  an  invitation,  he 
would  get  somebody  or  something.  And  he 
lurched  along  over  the  rocks  with  the  full  intent 
of  "bustin'  somethin'  wide  open." 

The  incident  of  the  grizzly  had  given  Crowley 
a  few  moments'  leeway,  though  he  didn't  know 
it.  He  had,  of  course,  heard  the  yells  of  the  In 
dians,  but  he  had  thought  them  to  be  the  cries 
of  his  pursuers  who  were  now  confident  that 
they  were  closing  in  on  him,  and  he  redoubled  his 
efforts. 

As  he  ran  he  suddenly  found  himself  upon  the 
bank  of  a  small  creek,  not  more  than  ten  or  twelve 
feet  across,  and  the  bank  on  the  opposite  side 
was  slightly  overhanging  and  covered  with  vines 
and  brush.  There  was  no  time  to  look  for  a  ford, 
and  Crowley  tried  the  jump  unhesitatingly. 

It  would  have  been  an  easy  jump  for  almost 
any  one,  under  ordinary  circumstances;  but  some 
fifteen  or  twenty  years  spent  in  the  saddle  do 
not  develop  or  limber  up  a  man's  jumping 

160 


CROWLEY'S  GET-AWAY 


muscles,  especially;  nor  are  high-heeled  boots  the 
kind  of  footwear  usually  adopted  by  our  best 
jumpers.  Besides,  the  take-off  was  bad  — •  a  little 
lower  than  the  opposite  bank,  and  the  edge  was 
crumbly  and  uneven. 

At  any  rate,  although  Crowley  made  a  gallant 
effort,  he  struck  the  edge  of  the  bank  and  came 
down  with  a  tremendous  splash  in  the  deep,  swift 
current;  and  before  he  could  grab  a  protruding 
root,  or  could  steady  himself  in  any  way,  he 
was  whirled  around  and  over  and  under  and 
about,  until  he  brought  up  against  the  same 
bank,  several  yards  downstream.  Instinctively 
he  grabbed  hold  of  anything  that  offered,  and 
with  an  effort  he  got  a  foothold  and  steadied 
himself  until  he  got  his  bearings. 

"Sufferin*  catamount!"  he  grunted  (or  words 
to  that  effect),  as  soon  as  he  got  his  breath,  "I 
wonder  what  in  Sam  Hill  is  gonna  happen  t'  me 
next!" 

As  he  looked  about  him,  however,  he  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  what  had  seemed  a  bad  mis 
hap  might  prove  to  be  a  blessing.  He  stood  in 
the  water  nearly  to  his  arm-pits;  over  his  head 

161 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

arched  the  bank  of  the  stream,  and  its  grass  and 
vines  formed  a  sort  of  curtain  before  him,  which 
not  only  concealed  him,  but  through  which  he 
could  watch  the  approaches  to  the  stream.  It  was 
not  the  most  comfortable  place  in  the  world,  for 
the  water  of  those  mountain  streams  is  not  what 
would  be  called  warm;  but  bad  as  the  situation 
was,  it  looked  a  heap  sight  better  to  Crowley  than 
to  be  "gallopin'  over  th'  rocks  a  few  jumps  ahead 
o'  them  Piutes!"  (Any  Indian  that  Crowley  did 
not  like  was  always  a  "Piute"  to  him.) 

He  at  once  took  such  measures  as  he  could  to 
keep  his  six-shooter  and  ammunition  dry,  for 
cartridges  will  only  stand  a  limited  amount  of 
soaking  before  becoming  useless,  so  he  unfasten 
ing  his  cartridge-belt  and  winding  it  around  his 
neck,  held  his  revolver  out  of  the  water.  By 
pressing  against  the  bank,  which  curved  slightly 
out  at  that  point,  he  found  that  it  was  not  a 
difficult  matter  to  maintain  his  position;  and,  on 
the  whole,  Crowley  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
things  "might  'a'  bin  a  hull  lot  worse!" 

Within  a  few  moments,  however,  Crowley 
had  reason  to  change  his  mind. 

162 


CROWLEY'S  GET-AWAY 


"An'  thar  I  stud,  feelin'  like  a  frog  on  a  lily- 
pad,  er  one  o'  them  mushrats,"  said  Crowley, 
describing  it  to  the  boys  afterwards,  "a-peekin' 
out  o'  thet  grass  an'  stuff  thet  hung  down  in  front 
o'  me,  scrougin'  up  ag'in  th'  bank  t'  keep  from 
gittin'  swep'  away.  An'  mebbe  yo'  think  thet 
water  wasn't  cold!  An'  me  all  het  up  with  run- 
nin'  like  I  did!  I  reck'n  I  was  jest  about  as  com- 
f  table  as  a  man  settin'  into  th'  'lectric  chair! 

"'By  Judas!'  I  says  t'  myself,  'this  here  ain't 
never  goin'  t'  do ! '  I  says.  Thet  there  water  was 
gittin'  colder  an'  colder,  an'  't  wa'n't  no  cinch 
keepin'  a  foothold,  neither.  An'  jest  about  th' 
time  I  was  makin'  up  my  mind  t'  take  a  chanct 
an'  come  out,  I  hears  a  shufflin'  an'  a  sniffin',  an' 
peekin'  out,  I  sees  a  big  grizzly  — •  I  guess  mebbe 
he  was  the  ol'  gran'daddy  of  'em  all  —  slouchin' 
along  on  th'  opp'site  bank,  not  mor'n  twenty  feet 
away. 

"Right  thar,  I  thought  mebbe  I  better  stay 
whar  I  was,  water  er  no  water  —  seein'  as  I'd  a 
heap  sight  ruther  be  froze  t'  death  and  drowned 
than  e't  up  by  one  o'  them  varmints.  He  was 
swingin'  from  side  to  side,  an'  wavin'  thet  nose 

163 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

o'  his'n  'round  in  the  air,  an*  then  he  stops,  an' 
I  reck'ns  it's  all  off,  an'  draws  down  my  head 
like  a  snappin'-turkle  till  only  my  eyes  is  'bove 
water.  I  knew  'f  he  got  my  scent,  it  was  good 
night.  'Come  on  in,'  I  says  to  myself;  'the 
water's  fine!'  An'  fer  a  spell,  it  looked  as  tho' 
he  were  goin'  t'  accep'  th'  invitation.  He  come 
down  t'  th'  edge  o'  the  creek,  not  more'n  a  dozen 
feet  from  me;  but  all  he  done  was  take  a  few  laps 
o'  water,  an'  then  he  loped  off  about  his  business. 
Then  I  realizes  thet  I'd  been  holdin'  my  breath 
fer  upwards  o'  two  or  three  minutes,  an'  I  takes 
a  long  one. 

"  'Buck  Crowley,'  I  says  t'  myself, £ climb  out'n 
this  here  water-hole  an'  go  about  yo'r  business ! 
A  man  thet's  born  t'  be  hung  ain't  goin'  t'  git 
b'ar-bit  er  Injun-massycreed  er  croaked  no  other 
way  —  not  after  whut  yo'  bin  through  recent,  he 
ain't!'  An'  th'  signs  sure  did  p'int  thet  way.  It 
looked  like  I  was  bein'  saved  fer  some  purpose, 
an'  't  'peared  t'  me  thet  hangin'  was  'bout  as 
likely 's  anything. 

"In  one  way  I  was  almighty  glad  t'  see  thet 
there  b'ar,  fer  I  knowed  thet  ef  anything  in  th' 

164 


CROWLEY'S  GET-AWAY 


world'd  make  them  Piutes  git  up  and  git  from 
thet  vicin'ty  it  was  a  grizzly.  I  ain't  never  saw 
no  Injuns  as  hankered  after  no  close  communion 
with  them  animals  —  not  less'n  the'  was  'bout 
a  million  in  the  outfit  an'  all  on  hosses.  An  In- 
jun'll  giv'  Mr.  B'ar  his  hull  half  o'  th'  road,  any 
time  — •  an'  mebbe  a  little  more,  'f  th'  b'ar  seems 
t'  want  it  — •  which  he  mos'  gener'ly  do.  An'  I 
ain't  savin'  thet  I  blames  Injuns  fer  feelin'  thet 
way.  A  b'ar  is  bad  medicine. 

"I  reck'n  thet  a  full  growed  he-grizzly  kin  lick 
anything  on  four  legs,  less'n  't  is  an  elephant;  an' 
ef  the'  was  t'  be  a  fight  between  them  two 
animals,  dog-gone  ef  I  wouldn't  take  a  ticket  on 
t'  ba'r!  An'  whut  I  do  know  is,  thet  ef  anybody's 
got  a  pet  tager  er  a  li'n  thet  they  think  a  lot  of, 
they  had  better  not  let  'em  come  fussin'  'round  a 
grizzly,  fer  th'  grizzly  won't  leave  enough  of  'em 
to  pay  fer  callin'  in  a  taxi-dermist.  No,  sir!  Thet 
li'n  er  tager  won't  never  ornament  no  museum 
o'  nacher'l  hist'ry! 

"They  do  say  thet  one  o'  them  Canada  rams'll 
giv'  a  b'ar  an  awful  argument.  Them  rams'll 
weight  'long  'bout  two  hunderd;  an'  when  they 

I6S 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

meets  up  with  a  b'ar,  they  don't  duck.  They 
backs  off  'bout  a  hunderd  feet  er  so,  an'  come 
a-runnin',  head  down  an'  hell-bent  fer  'lection. 
Th'  b'ar  raises  up  on  his  hind  legs  and  holds  out 
his  arms  to  give  'em  a  hug,  but  th'  ram  comes  too 
fast;  an'  he  lands  thet  hard  head  an'  horns  c' 
his'n  with  two  hunderd  pounds  o'  weight  behind 
it,  goin'  at  a  muzzle-veloc'ty  of  about  six  mile 
a  minnit,  kerplog  ag'in  th'  b'ar's  belly!  An'  th' 
b'ar  goes  down  like  a  ten-pin,  'ith  all  th'  wind 
knocked  out'n  him.  An'  when  he  grabs  t'  giv' 
th'  ram  a  hug,  he  don't  grab  nuthin' ! 

"Then  they  repeats  th'  performance  some 
seven  er  '  even  times,  'ithout  no  pertic'ler  varia 
tions,  till,  mos'  gener'ly,  th'  b'ar  figgers  his  solar- 
plexus  is  gettin'  a  little  too  much  het  up,  an'  thet 
he  ain't  gettin'  much  of  a  reputation  by  lickin' 
little  thing  like  a  sheep,  anyhow,  an'  he  takes  a 
run-out  powder.  Thet's  the  way  them  Canada 
lumber-jacks  tell  it.  But  I  dunno. 

"Mebbe  them  rams  kin  pull  thet  stuff  on  some 
b'ars  —  them  brown  an'  black  ones  —  but  I 
have  m'  doubts  'bout  a  ram  bein'  able  t'  put 
thet  over  onto  a  grizzly.  A  grizzly  makes  a  swipe 

166 


CROWLEY'S  GET-AWAY 


at  anything  thet  is  comin'  to  him,  an'  ef  he  ever 
did  land  on  Mr.  Ram,  with  thet  forearm  o'  his'n 

—  'bout  a  foot  thick,  I  guess  it  is  — •  an'  them  six- 
inch  claws!   Oh,  boy!   'F  a  Canada  ram  mixes 
it  up  with  a  grizzly,  I  guess  it'd  be  like  th'  bull 
dog  thet  tackled  th'  tager  —  yo'  got  t'  hand  it 
to  him  fer  courage,  but  yo'  don't  think  a  whole 
lot  of  his  judgment ! 

"Well,"  continued  Crowley,  "t'  git  back  t' 
whar  I  was.  As  soon  as  I  was  satisfied  th'  b'ar  had 
went  fur  'miff  so's  I  wouldn't  be  li'ble  t'  run  into 
him,  I  climbs  out  o'  th'  water,  an'  puts  my  feet 
in  motion  in  th'  op'site  d'rection  from  whut  th' 
b'ar  took,  as  near  as  I  c'd  figger,  an'  I  kep'  tryin* 
t'  bear  down  towards  th'  base  o'  th'  mount'n, 
hopin'  t'  strike  some  kind  of  a  trail.  But,  Lawd! 
A  man  does  git  mixed  up  'f  he  ain't  'customed  t' 
bein'  into  th'  mount'ns  much,  with  all  th'  turn- 
in'  an'  twistin'  an'  climbin',  an'  I  wa'n't  in  no 
position  t'  set  down  an'  do  much  figgerin'  out  a 
route.  'Most  any  way  t'  git  away  from  whar  I 
was  was  good  'nuff  fer  me !  I  was  jest  on  my  way 

—  thet  was  all!   I  hadn't  seen  hide  ner  hair  o' 
th'  Piutes  fer  some  twenty  minnits  er  more,  but 

167 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

I  wasn't  settin'  no  great  store  by  thet,  knowin* 
how  them  sneakin'  devils  is  li'ble  t'  crop  up  out 
o'  nowheres,  an'  I  c'd  feel  myself  gettin'  shot  in 
th'  back  'bout  ev'ry  minnit. 

"But  nuthin'  like  thet  happens.  I  come  lopin* 
'round  a  corner,  not  knowin'  thet  th'  earth  come 
to  a  end  right  'bout  thar;  an'  tryin'  t'  check  my 
mad  c'reer,  I  steps  onto  a  round  stone,  my  ankle 
turns,  an'  I  goes  pitchin'  sideways  an'  t'  other- 
end-up  fer  Sunday,  an'  slides  down  a  steep  place 

—  pretty  near  a  cliff  she  was  —  'bout  a  mile  or 
two  long,  scratchin'  an'  scrabblin'  an'  tryin'  t' 
ketch  a-holt  o'  anythin'  thet'd  hoi'  me  back,  an* 
lands  at  th'  bottom  ker-slam  ag'in   a  rock   er 
somethin'  — •  an'  right  thar  somebuddy  turned  off 
th'  sunshine! 

"  I  ain't  no  idea  how  long  I  lays  thar,  but  when 
I  cum  to,  I  tries  t'  stan'  up,  an'  I  can't  make  it 

—  ankle's  plumb  on  th'  blink,  an'  I  has  a  thirst 
like  a  camel.  I  manages  t'  crawl  downhill  a  piece, 
an'  fin'ly  I  come  t'  a  little  trickle  o'  water.  Con- 
siderin'  my  experience  jest  a  spell  before,  when  th' 
b'ar  hed  me  treed  in  th'  water,  y'  wouldn't  think 
I'd  need  none.   But  I  wanna  say  thet  I  drank 

168 


CROWLEY'S  GET-AWAY 


an'  drank  till,  when  I  looked  up,  I  didn't  expect 
t'  see  no  more  stream  —  I  thought  I'd  lapped  her 
all  up!  I  took  off  my  boot  an'  bathed  th'  ankle, 
which  was  some  big  —  not  carin'  by  this  time 
whether  I  got  winged  by  a  Injun  er  not.  But 
seems  like  thar  wa'n't  none  around,  an'  I  crawls 
away,  not  bein'  able  t'  git  my  boot  on,  to  a  snug 
place  between  two  rocks  up  on  a  sort  o'  ledge; 
an'  thar  I  stays  till  th'  next  day,  restin'  up  my 
foot.  An'  —  haw,  haw !  How  I  nursed  thet  six- 
gun  an'  them  ca'tridges !  Seemed  like  I  was  safe 
'nuff,  long's  I  hed  them  with  me! 

"  Long  towards  evenin'  th'  nex'  day,  th'  ankle 
bein'  some  better,  I  crawls  out  an'  perceeds  on 
my  way,  bein'  some  hongry.  Ef  I'd  'a'  saw  a 
squirrel  eatin'  a  nut,  I'd  'a'  give  him  a  fight  fer 
it!  An'  th'  rest  I  guess  you  boys  knows.  Fer  I 
hedn't  gone  more'n  forty  rods  when  I  runs  into 
this  here  John  Big  Moose  person,  an'  him  an* 
me  goes  to  th'  mat." 


CHAPTER  XV 
IN  ENEMY  HANDS 

As  the  boys  scurried  over  the  rough  ground  and 
through  the  woods,  it  seemed  to  Whitey  that 
they  had  been  upon  the  rock  for  hours;  but  in 
reality  the  entire  incident  had  occupied  some 
thing  like  half  an  hour.  They  felt  that  they  were 
by  no  means  "out  of  the  woods"  yet;  for  while 
they  were  well  away  from  the  main  body  of  the 
Crows,  who  were  on  the  mountain  above  the 
mine,  yet  there  were  undoubtedly  some  of  the 
attacking  party  posted  on  the  slope  below.  In 
order  to  reach  the  mine  and  recover  their  weap 
ons,  it  would  be  necessary  to  pass  them;  and  un 
der  the  circumstances,  this  was  no  easy  matter. 
And  yet,  after  their  experience  with  the  bear, 
the  prospect  of  the  all-day  trip  back  to  the  camp 
without  weapons  did  not  appear  attractive;  and 
of  the  two  evils  the  risk  of  capture  by  the  Crows 
seemed  the  less.  Left  to  himself,  it  is  doubtful 
if  Whitey  could  have  found  his  way  back  to  the 
mine  without  the  greatest  difficulty  —  perhaps 

170 


IN  ENEMY  HANDS 


not  at  all;  for  he  had  not  as  yet  developed  that 
sense  of  direction  so  necessary  to  the  expert  in 
woodcraft  or  mountaineering.  But  such  a  thing 
was  second-nature  to  Injun.  Once  over  a  region 
was  enough  for  him.  He  never  forgot  the  way. 
He  noticed  and  stored  up  in  his  memory  a  thou 
sand  little  things  that  served  as  guide-posts  in 
the  future.  After  they  had  plunged  ahead  for 
some  time  in  an  apparently  aimless  attempt  to- 
get  away  from  the  scene  of  the  bear-fight,  Whitey 
could  not  have  told  where  they  were  or  in  what 
direction  the  mine  lay  to  save  his  life. 

"Have  you  any  idea  where  we  are,  Injun ?" 
he  asked,  in  a  low  tone. 

Injun  nodded  —  "the  pathless  woods"  were 
not  pathless  to  him. 

"Well,  where  are  we  headed?"  asked  Whitey. 
"I  think  we  better  take  the  chances  of  going 
back  to  the  mine,  rather  than  the  chances  of  go 
ing  back  to  the  horses  and  then  over  that  long 
trail  to  the  ranch  without  a  gun,  don't  you?" 

"Me  get  'um —  you  wait?"  queried  Injun. 

"No,"  said  Whitey,  "I  don't  think  that's  a 
good  plan.  While  I  think  one  of  us  stands  a 

171 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

better  chance  to  get  there  than  two,  yet  I  think 
we  better  stick  together.  Besides,  if  one  of  us 
is  to  go,  it  might  better  be  me,  for  neither  the 
Dakotas  nor  the  Crows  will  be  so  apt  to  harm 
me  as  they  will  you.  We'll  tackle  it  together!" 
Injun  made  no  objection  to  this,  and  he  turned 
at  almost  right  angles  to  the  course  they  were 
taking,  much  to  the  surprise  of  Whitey.  But  he 
had  learned  from  many  former  experiences  that 
it  was  best  to  trust  implicitly  to  his  companion, 
and  he  unhesitatingly  followed  his  lead.  Whitey 
knew,  from  the  time  that  had  passed  during 
their  flight  from  the  Crows  after  liberating  Crow- 
ley  and  their  hold-up  by  the  bear,  that  they  could 
not  be  a  very  great  distance  from  the  mine,  but 
he  was  utterly  at  sea  as  to  its  direction.  Injun 
seemed  to  have  no  doubts  about  the  matter, 
and  proceeded  confidently,  but  cautiously.  Evi 
dently  there  was  no  fight  in  progress  between  the 
Dakotas  and  the  Crows.,  for  the  boys  were  near 
enough  to  have  heard  the  shots  had  there  been 
a  conflict.  Whether  this  would  be  of  advantage 
or  not  remained  to  be  seen  —  certainly,  each  of 
the  bands  would  be  on  the  lookout  for  any  one 

172 


approaching.  Their  way  lay  over  rough,  stony 
ground,  and  amid  a  rather  sparse  sprinkling  of 
trees  that  afforded  little  chance  of  concealment; 
and  more  than  once  Injun  felt  inclined  to  turn 
back  and  approach  the  mine  from  the  other  di 
rection.  But  he  knew  that  the  mine  was  but  a 
short  distance  away  in  a  straight  line,  and  he 
disliked  to  make  a  long  detour  with  the  chance 
of  running  into  the  main  body  of  the  Crows  that 
had  spread  out  in  their  hunt  for  Crowley. 

"  It  doesn't  look  like  we  had  a  very  good  chance 
of  getting  by,"  whispered  Whitey,  as  he  glanced 
about  him.  "  If  they  are  on  the  lookout  for  any 
body,  they  ought  to  see  us !  But  if  we  once  get 
out  of  this  open  place  and  among  the  thick  brush, 
perhaps  we  may  be  able  to  get  away  with  it.  I 
sure  don't  like  to  think  of  what  will  happen  to  us 
if  those  Indians  catch  us." 

Injun  was  going  "close  to  the  ground,"  duck 
ing  behind  everything  that  offered  the  slightest 
cover,  and  Whitey  was  doing  his  best  to  follow 
Injun's  example.  On  the  left  was  a  small  gully 
not  more  than  six  or  eight  feet  wide,  and  really 
little  more  than  a  crack  between  two  rocks,  and 

173 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

into  this  Injun  turned  and  Whitey  after  him. 
They  had  gone  but  a  few  steps,  when,  as  they 
neared  the  mouth  of  the  gully,  an  Indian 
stepped  out  and  covered  them  with  his  gun.  In 
stinctively,  Whitey  turned  to  go  back,  but  found 
himself  confronted  by  another  Indian  who  had 
stepped  into  the  gully  behind  them  as  they  had 
entered. 

"Talk  about  a  rat-trap!"  said  Whitey.  "It 
isn't  in  it  with  this!  Hey!  There!"  he  called  to 
the  Indians.  "Don't  shoot  —  we're  friends !  We 
got  into  this  by  trying  to  get  a  square  deal  for 
everybody!  We  don't  belong  to  John  Big  Moose's 
party  any  more  than  we  belong  to  you!"  he 
added,  realizing  that  the  Indians  were  Crows. 

How  much  of  this  the  Indians  understood 
there  is  no  way  of  telling;  but  at  any  rate  it 
seemed  to  have  very  little  influence  on  their  ac 
tions.  The  Indian  behind  the  boys  urged  them 
forward  with  the  muzzle  of  his  rifle,  and  as  they 
came  out  of  the  gully  they  were  seized  by  three 
Indians  who  were  waiting. 

"You  talk  to  'em,  Injun,"  said  Whitey.  "Tell 
'em  we're  neutral!" 

174 


IN  ENEMY  HANDS 


Injun  gestured  away  in  hand-talk,  trying  to 
explain  that  they  were  doing  their  best  to  be 
non-combatants ;  but  what  he  said  did  not  seem 
to  have  the  slightest  effect.  The  boys  were 
grabbed  and  hustled  off  down  the  slope  of  the 
mountain  in  no  leisurely  or  gentle  manner,  be 
ing  urged  along  by  vigorous  prods  from  the  muz 
zle  of  the  rifle  of  the  nearest  of  the  captors. 

"Hey!  Go  easy  there!"  said  Whitey  to  one  of 
them,  after  a  particularly  hard  jab.  "What  do 
you  think  you're — •" 

The  remonstrance  remained  unfinished,  as  a 
prod  on  the  ribs  from  the  Indian  on  the  other 
side  of  him  knocked  all  the  wind  out  of  the  boy. 
Whitey  saw  that  it  was  the  best  plan  to  follow 
Injun's  lead  and  take  whatever  was  coming  to 
him  in  silence.  But  he  made  up  his  mind  that 
if  he  ever  got  the  chance,  he  would  repay  those 
prods  with  interest. 

After  some  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes  of  this, 
during  which  they  had  made  remarkable  prog 
ress,  they  came  to  the  main  body  of  the  Indians 
that  were  gathered  on  a  small,  level  space  below 
an  overhanging  rock.  There  was  a  council  or 

175 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

pow-wow  in  progress,  and  though  their  coming 
created  no  outward  excitement,  it  was  evident 
that  the  Crows  felt  a  keen  satisfaction  in  the 
capture  of  the  boys.  Several  of  the  braves  came 
to  them  as  soon  as  they  arrived,  and  quickly 
bound  their  feet  as  well  as  their  hands  and  pushed 
the  boys  over  unceremoniously  on  to  the  ground. 
This  done,  they  returned  to  the  pow-wow,  which 
now  became  excited  in  the  extreme. 

"Can  you  make  out  what  they're  saying?" 
asked  Whitey  of  Injun  in  a  low  tone. 

Injun  did  not  at  once  reply.  "Crow  chase 
him  C'owley  —  Dakota  come  steal  horse.  Got 
'em  at  mine,"  reported  Injun,  at  length. 

"That  means  that  these  birds  are  licked,  don't 
it?"  asked  Whitey. 

Injun  signed  to  Whitey  to  keep  still.  While 
he  could  not  understand  what  was  being  said, 
he  could  read  the  signs,  for  all  Indians  uncon 
sciously  use  some  signs  when  talking,  and  he 
suspected  enough  to  realize  that  their  own  situ 
ation  was  desperate.  The  Crows  evidently  be 
lieved  that  Injun  and  Whitey  belonged  to  the 
Dakotas'  expedition,  and  they  proposed  to  make 

176 


IN  ENEMY  HANDS 


use  of  them  in  getting  back  their  horses  and,  ' 
possibly,  a  share  in  the  mine. 

"Gee!"  whispered  Whitey.  "First  two  bears 
squabble  over  us,  and  now  the  Crows  and  Da- 
kotas !  I  hope  the  thing  comes  out  the  same  way! 
I  hope  they  kill  each  other  off,  just  like  the  bears 
did !  I  could  enjoy  seeing  that  big  guy  that  poked 
me  in  the  ribs  with  his  rifle  get  his!" 

The  more  he  thought  about  it,  however,  the 
less  likely  this  possibility  seemed.  He  had  read 
stories  about  bandits  who  held  people  for  ransom, 
and  if  their  friends  delayed  the  payment,  had  a 
nice  little  habit  of  slicing  off  an  ear  or  a  few  toes 
and  sending  them  to  the  friends  as  a  reminder 
that  the  ransom  was  overdue.  This  did  not  seem 
very  cheerful.  But  he  remembered  that  other 
bandits  had  been  foiled,  too;  and  he  resolved  to 
await  developments  as  calmly  as  possible. 

These  were  not  long  in  coming;  for  in  a  few 
moments  the  pow-wow  broke  up  after  two  or 
three  of  the  braves  had  made  speeches  and  some 
kind  of  an  agreement  had  been  reached. 

"What  do  you  suppose  they  have  decided  to 
do?"  asked  Whitey,  anxiously. 

177 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

"Dunno,"  said  Injun,  gravely.  He  knew  that 
he  and  Whitey  were  to  be  pawns  in  the  game, 
but  just  what  part  they  were  to  play  he  did  not 
know.  He  was  not  long  in  ignorance,  however. 
Several  of  the  Indians  came  over  to  the  boys, 
and  lifting  Injun  to  his  feet,  they  took  off  the 
thongs  that  bound  his  hands  and  feet,  —  because 
Injun  could  not  talk  to  them  without  the  use 
of  his  hands,  —  and  led  him  over  to  the  council. 
He  was  placed  before  three  of  the  men  who  seemed 
to  be  directing  the  affairs  and  they  gave  him 
instructions. 

He  was  told  that  he  must  go  to  John  Big  Moose, 
tell  him  that  the  white  boy  was  held  a  prisoner 
by  the  Crows,  and  that  he  would  be  returned  to 
the  Dakotas  only  upon  condition  that  the  horses 
of  the  Crows  were  given  back  and  they  also  be 
allowed  a  share  in  the  mine.  In  case  John  Big 
Moose  refused  these  terms,  the  white  boy  would 
be  killed.  And,  in  any  event,  whether  the  Da 
kotas  accepted  or  rejected  these  terms,  he,  In 
jun,  must  return  to  the  camp  of  the  Crows.  In  case 
he  did  not  return,  Whitey  would  pay  the  penalty 
with  his  life! 

178 


IN  ENEMY  HANDS 


In  vain  Injun  explained  that  neither  he  nor 
Whitey  was  any  part  or  parcel  of,  or  had  any  in 
terest  in,  John  Big  Moose  and  his  Dakotas,  or 
that  the  Dakotas  had  any  interest  in  them.  The 
Crows  would  not  argue  the  question,  and  he  was 
told  to  go,  and  that  upon  what  he  did  would  de 
pend  Whitey's  fate  as  well  as  his  own!  And  he 
was  given  until  sunset  to  perform  his  mission 
and  to  return! 

A  pretty  severe  test  for  a  boy  not  yet  sixteen ! 
He  was  not  even  allowed  to  communicate  with 
Whitey;  and  when  the  boy  saw  Injun  disappear 
in  the  direction  of  the  mine,  he  could  only  sur 
mise  what  his  errand  was;  but  he  felt  that  he, 
himself,  was  to  be  the  bone  of  contention. 

He  was  given  little  time  for  reflection,  how 
ever,  for  no  sooner  was  Injun  out  of  sight  than 
two  of  the  braves  approached  him,  took  the 
bonds  from  his  feet,  and  lifting  him  up  started 
down  the  mountain,  one  on  either  side  of  him. 

Whitey  saw  plainly  that  it  would  be  of  no  use 
to  offer  any  protest  and  so  he  hurried  along  be 
side  them  as  well  as  he  could  (walking  downhill 
over  very  rough  ground,  with  your  hands  tied 

179 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

behind  you,  is  not  a  wishful  job,  as  Bill  Jordan 
would  put  it),  but  he  resolved  to  keep  a  stiff 
upper  lip,  and  not  to  show  any  fear,  however 
much  he  might  feel. 

To  say  that  he  felt  no  fear  would  be  far  from 
the  truth.  Anybody,  man  or  boy,  placed  in  a 
similar  position  would  feel  fear.  He  reasoned, 
however,  that  he  was  in  no  immediate  danger,  as 
it  was  evidently  the  intention  of  the  Crows  to 
make  use  of  him  as  a  hostage,  and  for  that  rea 
son  his  captors  would  take  good  care  that  noth 
ing  happened  to  him  until  he  had  served  his 
purpose.  He  also  knew  that  the  West  of  to-day 
is  not  the  same  as  the  West  of  the  fifties  and 
sixties.  The  killing  of  a  white  man  by  Indians 
is  a  much  more  serious  matter  —  for  the  In 
dians  !  —  than  it  was  fifty  years  ago.  (Probably, 
it  amounted  to  about  the  same  thing  to  the 
white  man!)  And  such  acts  were  almost  inva 
riably  visited  by  the  severest  punishment  upon 
the  tribe  that  did  the  killing.  In  the  talks  that 
he  had  heard  at  the  ranch,  he  had  gathered  that 
the  Indians  of  that  country  were  well  aware  of 
this,  having  had  many  a  severe  lesson;  and  he 

1 80 


IN  ENEMY  HANDS 


had  come  to  regard  any  danger  from  them,  in 
ordinary  times,  as  almost  negligible.  But  were 
these  ordinary  times  ?  Decidedly,  they  were  not. 
Two  bands  of  Indians  of  different  tribes  were  at 
what  amounted  to  war;  and  he  had  interfered  in 
it  distinctly  to  the  disadvantage  of  the  band  that 
held  him  captive.  By  liberating  Crowley  he  had 
been  the  indirect  cause  of  the  loss  of  the  horses 
belonging  to  the  Crows,  and  he  knew  that  an 
Indian  is  not  inclined  to  be  very  forgiving  of  so 
deep  an  injury  as  that;  and  once  an  Indian's 
enmity  is  aroused,  he  often  sets  consequences  at 
naught. 

For  perhaps  half  an  hour  Whitey  was  hustled 
and  hurried  this  way  and  that,  uphill  and  down 
hill,  over  rocks  and  among  trees  and  brush,  often 
stumbling  and  falling,  only  to  be  yanked  to  his 
feet  by  his  two  guards,  until  they  came  to  some 
thick  brush  that  covered  the  base  of  a  cliff  that 
was  perhaps  twenty  feet  high.  The  brush  and 
scrub  grew  up  a  ledge  about  ten  feet  in  width, 
from  which  there  was  another  drop  of  perhaps 
thirty  feet  or  more;  the  rock,  the  ledge,  and  the 
drop  from  the  ledge  forming  something  like  two 

181 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

steps  of  a  gigantic  stairway.  Whitey  was  hustled 
some  twenty  feet  along  the  ledge,  and  one  of  his 
captors,  pulling  aside  the  brush,  disclosed  a  small 
cave  —  really  little  more  than  a  crack  or  hole  in 
the  rock  —  perhaps  four  feet  in  height  and  three 
in  width — and  into  this  Whitey  was  thrust; 
and  the  two  guards,  after  jabbering  something 
in  their  own  language,  covered  the  hole  with 
brush,  and  sat  down  on  the  ledge  to  wait. 

If  there  had  been  nothing  before  the  hole 
there  would  have  been  very  little  light  five  or 
six  feet  from  the  entrance;  but  when  covered  by 
the  brush  the  darkness  was  impenetrable;  and 
the  low  roof  or  ceiling,  which  made  standing 
erect  impossible,  added  to  the  discomfort  of  the 
situation.  After  standing  in  a  stooped  position 
for  a  moment  or  two,  Whitey  sat  down  upon  the 
damp  floor  to  do  a  little  thinking. 

For  some  time  he  tried  to  find  a  sharp  edge  of 
rock  against  which  he  might  rub  the  thongs  that 
bound  his  wrists  until  he  had  severed  them;  but, 
although  he  had  read  about  this  method  of  re 
leasing  one's  self,  he  found  that  in  practice  it  was 
not  so  easy  as  in  reading.  And,  after  a  time,  in 

182 


IN  ENEMY  HANDS 


which  he  succeeded  in  bruising  his  hands  con 
siderably,  he  gave  it  up.  He  also  tried  to  bring 
his  hands  in  front  of  him  by  bringing  them  down 
under  his  legs  and  over  his  feet;  but  in  this,  too, 
he  was  unsuccessful,  for  the  thongs  were  well  up 
on  his  wrists;  and  although  he  was  extremely 
agile  and  supple,  and  a  good  gymnast,  he  found 
it  impossible. 

In  his  efforts  to  do  this  and  to  find  a  sharp 
edge  of  rock  to  cut  the  thongs,  he  had  done  con 
siderable  writhing,  and  without  knowing  it  he 
had  worked  himself  some  distance  back  into  the 
cave.  He  had  also  muttered  a  few  words  of  im 
patience  at  his  inability  to  free  himself. 

As  he  thrust  out  one  of  his  legs  in  one  of  his 
gyrations,  his  foot  pressed  against  something 
soft  —  or,  at  least,  something  which  he  knew 
was  not  rock.  And  immediately,  a  hand  clutched 
his  arm  and  a  voice  whispered  in  his  ear:  "Yo* 
white  man  —  me  white  man,  too!  Sssh!  Yo' 
turn  'roun'  dees  way  —  I  tak'  t'ong  off  yo* 
han's!" 

And  Whitey  recognized  the  voice  of  Pedro! 


CHAPTER  XVI 
BILL  JORDAN  RETURNS 

WHEN  Bill  Jordan  returned  to  the  ranch  from  his 
trip  to  New  York,  which  had  been  extended  a 
little  longer  than  he  had  expected,  he  received 
a  surprise  which  made  him  regret  more  than  ever 
that  his  enforced  sojourn  in  the  big  city  had  pre 
vented  him  from  going  "prospectin"'  with  the 
two  boys.  Injun  and  Whitey  were  not  back 
yet. 

No  sooner  had  Bill  arrived  at  the  ranch  one 
morning,  along  toward  noon,  than  Walker  and 
Bassett  rode  into  the  corral.  They  called  him 
aside  from  the  other  men  as  though  they  had 
some  news  of  importance. 

"Whut's  on  yo'r  mind?"  asked  Bill,  as  soon 
as  they  were  alone. 

"Wai,"  said  Walker,  "mebbe  it's  somethin' 
an*  mebbe  it  ain't  —  we  figgered  mebbe  yo' 
oughta  know  'bout  it  an'  decide.  Me  an'  Bas 
sett  meets  up  with  an  Injun  —  one  o'  th'  same 
breed  as  our  kid  —  an'  fur's  we  c'd  jedge  from 

184 


BILL  JORDAN  RETURNS 


what  he  told,  the's  hell  broke  loose  among  th' 
Injuns  over  to  the  mount'ns.  Seems  like  the's 
two  tribes  mixed  up  into  the  fracas  — •  one  ag'in* 
t'  other,  in  a  kind  of  a  free-fer-all.  We  figgered 
't  mebbe  all  this  was  comin'  off  somewheres  near 
th'  vicinities  them  two  boys  was  infestin',  an' 
knowin'  their  capacity  fer  gettin'  inta  trouble, 
it  might  be  well  t'  —  " 

"You  said  somethin'!"  said  Bill,  plainly  wor 
ried.  "Yo'  ain't  heard  nuthin'  from  'em  sence 
they  started,  I  take  it?"  he  asked. 

"Th'  mails  ain't  been  whut  yo'  c'd  call  reg'ler 
between  here  an'  them  mount'ns,"  said  Bassett, 
dryly. 

"The'  ain't  nuthin'  t'  do  but  t'  hustle  over 
thar  soon's  we  kin,"  said  Bill.  "I  bin  hevin'  a 
hunch  thet  mebbe  somethin'  was  detainin'  them 
boys  —  I  thought  'bout  it  on  th'  train  an'  sence 
I  bin  here.  We  better  start  soon's  we  kin. 
Doggone  'f  they  ain't  dandies  fer  huntin'  trou 
ble!  'F  anythin'  was  t'  happen  t'  thet  Whitey  — • 
me  bein'  responsible  fer  'im,  in  a  way  o'  speakin' 
—  I  dunno's  I'd  ever  hev  th'  nerve  t'  face  th' 
Boss  ag'in  —  let  alone  Mrs.  Sherwood  —  she 

185 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

sets  a  heap  o'  store  by  thet  kid.  An'  thet  there 
Injun  is  consider'ble  boy,  too  —  'cordin'  t'  my 
way  o'  thinkin'." 

"Who'd  better  go?"  asked  Walker,  looking 
over  at  the  men  at  the  corral. 

"Wai,"  said  Bill,  thoughtfully,  winking  at 
Bassett,  "I  reck'n  me  an'  Bassett  an'  Buck  Hig- 
gins  an'  Shorty  Palmer'll  be  'nuff.  Walker,  yo' 
take  charge  o'  things  here  while  I'm  gone." 

"Yeah?"  said  Walker,  bristling  with  indig 
nation.  "Me  take  charge  here,  hey?  Well,  ef 
ther's  yo'r  idea,  I  quit,  right  now!  I'm  fired! 
I  hands  myself  th'  blue  envelope!  An'  I  ain't 
subjec'  t'  yo'r  orders!  I'm  goin'  along  with  th' 
party,  er  I'm  goin'  alone!  Yo'  an'  th'  ranch  kin 
go  plumb  to!" 

"O'  co'se,"  said  Bill,  grinning,  "'f  yo'  feels 
thataway  'bout  it,  I  reck'n  mebbe  Shorty  Palmer 
is  'lected  to  my  job  'stead  o'  yo'." 

Walker  laughed.  "Bill," he  said,  "I've  knowed 
yo'  fer  some  consid'ble  spell,  an'  I  can't  tell  yet 
when  yo're  kiddin'!  I  guess  I  didn't  receive  no 
blue  envelope!  But  lemme  tell  yo'  somethin'," 
he  continued,  lowering  his  voice  and  indicating 

1 86 


BILL  JORDAN  RETURNS 


the  men  at  the  corral,  "ef  them  boys  over  there 
gets  th'  idea  of  whut's  up,  yo'  ner  nobuddy  else 
kin  keep  'em  from  goin'  along.  The'  won't  be 
nobuddy  stay  here  but  Sing  Wong,  an'  I  got  my 
doubts  'bout  him  —  him  likin'  them  kids  a 
whole  lot  —  fer  a  Chink." 

"Them  are  words  o'  wisdom,"  said  Bassett. 
"Them  cow-waddies  will  shore  want  t'  go  'long. 
An'  seein5  as  the's  two  hull  tribes  o'  Injuns  into 
this  here  mess,  I  misdoubts  if  mebbe  they  ought 
n't  t'  go." 

Bill  thought  for  a  time:  "No,"  he  said,  finally, 
"I  reck'n  thet  us  three  an'  Buck  Higgins  kin 
turn  th'  trick.  Was  Injun's  people  aimin'  t'  take 
a  hand  into  th'  game  'count  o'  him  bein'  mebbe 
in  it?" 

"I  reck'n  not,"  said  Walker;  "th'  cuss  thet 
tole  us  'bout  it  were  takin'  a  bunch  o'  beaded 
moccasins  over  to  th'  Junction,  an'  didn't  'pear 
t'  be  het  up  'bout  it." 

"Mebbe  it's  jest  as  well  they  don't  mix  in," 
said  Bill.  "It'd  mebbe  complicate  matters  an' 
wouldn't  do  no  great  good.  Fix  up  a  pack- 
horse  an'  we'll  start  in  ten  minutes.  We  better 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

go  different  ways,  t*  th'ow  the  boys  off,  an' 
meet  at  the  fork." 

And  he  hurried  away  to  give  orders  to  Shorty 
Palmer  in  regard  to  the  conduct  of  the  ranch  in 
his  absence. 

Within  an  hour  the  four  men  met  at  the  fork  of 
the  creek,  some  miles  from  the  ranch;  and,  turn 
ing  their  horses'  heads  to  the  northwest,  began 
the  long,  uphill  ride  that  would  carry  them  into 
the  mountains. 

The  farther  they  rode  the  more  serious  the 
situation  of  Whitey  and  Injun  seemed  to  Jordan. 
The  chance  of  an  Indian  fight  had  not  entered 
into  his  calculations;  such  a  thing  had  not  hap 
pened,  except  in  a  small  way,  within  his  recol 
lection.  While  there  was  little  for  the  boys  to 
fear  from  the  Indians  in  ordinary  times,  Jordan 
knew  that  when  two  tribes  became  embroiled, 
the  "innocent  bystander"  did  not  occupy  a  very 
safe  position. 

The  wars  between  the  different  tribes  of  In 
dians  were,  perhaps,  even  more  bitter  and  re 
lentless  than  those  which  they  waged  against 
the  whites;  and  Jordan  felt  that  if  the  boys  were 

1 88 


BILL  JORDAN  RETURNS 


caught  in  an  affair  of  this  kind,  the  fact  that  they 
had  nothing  to  do  with  it  might  mean  little  in 
determining  their  fate. 

"Doggone  them  fool  Injuns!"  said  Bill,  dis 
gustedly  — •  no  one  had  spoken  for  several  miles, 
which  fact  indicated  that  the  others  thought  the 
situation  serious  — •  "why  couldn't  they  hev  put 
off  their  fambly  quarrels  till  th'  kids  got  home! 
Th'  fact  thet  th'  kids  hed  nuthin'  t'  do  with  th' 
argument  won't  help  'em  none,  mebbe,  'f  they  git 
into  th'  midst  of  it!" 

"How  d'  yo'  know  th'  kids  ain't  got  nuthin' t' 
do  with  it?"  asked  Walker,  after  a  moment. 
"Fur's  I'm  concerened,  I'm  prepared  t'  b'leeve 
thet  mebbe  th'  kids  is  at  th'  bottom  o'  th'  hull 
shootin'-match ! " 

"Knowin'  them  boys  as  I  do,"  said  Bassett, 
"  I  wouldn't  put  it  past  'em !  They  didn't  start 
nuthin'  over  t'  th'  Cross  an'  Circle,  did  they? 
Not  much !  An*  'tain't  out  o'  reason  thet  they 
started  somethin'  over  here." 

"Wai,"  chimed  in  Buck  Higgins,  grinning, 
"  it's  a  cinch  ef  the's  any  doin's  bein'  did,  them 
boys  ain't  spectators,  even  ef  they  didn't  start 

189 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

th'  rookus.  'F  yo'  all  don't  think  them  two  has 
got  some  kind  of  a  hand  into  it  yo'  kin  win  a  bet 
from  me!" 

"Thet's  th'  way  I  want  to  bet,"  said  Jordan, 
dryly.  "Thet's  jest  whut  I'm  afeared  of! 
Them  two  boys  couldn't  no  more  set  by  an'  see 
a  rookus  come  off  'thout  takin'  a  hand  than  "  — 
he  paused  for  a  moment — '"than  I  could,"  he 
concluded.  "I  reck'n  I  oughta  went  with  'em, 
in  th'  first  place  — •  er  let  one  o'  yo'  boys  go.  But 
I  guess  I  was  a  leetle  over-persuaded." 

"Shucks!"  said  Walker.  "When  it's  done,  it's 
done,  as  th'  Good  Book  says." 

"Twa'n't  the  Good  Book,  Walker,  as  said 
thet,"  said  Jordan,  reprovingly.  "I'm  s'prised 
t'  hear  yo'  misquotin'  her  continual!" 

"Well,  who  was  it  said  it,  then,  perfess  — 
seein'  as  yo'  know  it  all?"  asked  Walker,  sar 
castically,  and  plainly  unconvinced. 

"It  was  one  o'  them  play-actin'  men  said  it," 
explained  Bill.  "I  heared  'im  say  it  when  I  was 
back  t'  Omaha  onc't  with  some  cattle.  I  seen 
thet  Mac  Beth  feller  with  th'  long  hair  an'  fish- 
scale  pants  at  a  show,  an'  I  heared  'im  say  ef  it 

190 


BILL  JORDAN  RETURNS 


was  done  it  was  best  t'  do  it  in  a  hurry.  He  was 
goin'  t'  kill  some  feller,  but  I  didn't  wait  t'  see 
'im  do  it.  Only  hed  two  hours  an'  I  wanted  t' 
see  ev'ry  show  in  town." 

"I  got  five  thet  says  yo're  wrong,  Bill,"  said 
Bassett. 

"Yeah,  an'  I  got  ten  thet  speaks  th'  same  lan 
guage,"  said  Walker. 

"I'll  take  half  o'  Walker's  bet,"  put  in  Buck 
Higgins.  "I  had  a  old  aunt  thet  c'd  give 
yo'  chapter  an'  verse — 'f  she  was  here!  She 
knowed  th'  hull  Book  backwards!  Only  she's 
cashed  in." 

"Wai,"  said  Bill,  weakening  a  little,  "I  reck'n 
thet's  th'  way  yo'  all  knows  it.  But  mebbe  yo're 
right.  'T  any  rate,  I  ain't  goin' t'  make  no  bet  — 
'tain't  no  fit  thing  t'  gamble  on.  We  ain't  got 
no  way  o'  provin'  it,  anyhow." 

With  this  argument  settled,  and  the  adage 
consigned  to  the  "Good  Book"  by  a  majority 
vote,  the  four  men  rode  and  rode  into  the  west. 

And  when  Night  had  let  down  her  curtain, 
they  had  covered  more  than  sixty  miles. 


CHAPTER  XVII 
PEDRO'S  ESCAPE 

AFTER  the  trouble  and  expense  to  which  the 
state  and  county  had  been  subjected  on  account 
of  Pedro,  it  would  seem  that,  once  having  him 
securely  behind  the  bars,  tried  and  convicted 
and  awaiting  sentence  for  murder,  the  officials 
would  have  seen  to  it  that  the  man  did  not  es 
cape.  But  such  was  not  the  case.  True,  extraor 
dinary  precautions  were  taken,  but  against  a 
man  of  Pedro's  resourcefulness,  they  were  of  no 
avail.  It  is  probable,  too,  that  even  those  put  in 
charge  of  him  did  not  realize  the  depths  to  which 
the  man  was  capable  of  sinking,  and  that  there 
was  nothing  human  about  him,  any  more  than 
there  is  about  a  mad  dog.  There  was  not  the 
slightest  particle  of  gratitude  in  his  nature,  and 
those  who  sought  to  befriend  him  or  better  his 
condition  were  no  different  from  any  one  else,  in 
Pedro's  eyes.  He  would  literally  "bite  the  hand 
that  fed  him!" 

In  our  prison  system  even  the  convicted  mur- 
192 


PEDRO'S  ESCAPE 


derer  has  some  rights  and  is  allowed  certain  priv 
ileges,  especially  in  the  way  of  the  preparing  of 
his  soul  to  meet  his  Maker.  The  consolation  of 
religion  is  denied  to  no  man  who  stands  in  the 
shadow  of  the  gallows.  And  Pedro  took  advan 
tage  of  this  fact  to  make  his  escape. 

During  the  forty-eight  hours  that  followed  his 
conviction  and  before  sentence  had  been  pro 
nounced,  Pedro  gave  every  evidence  of  deep  sor 
row  for  his  many  crimes,  and  asked  that  a  priest 
might  come  to  him  to  receive  his  confession  and 
to  guide  him  in  his  prayerful  repentance  to  God. 
No  warden  is  going  to  deny  a  man  this.  But  the 
thing'  to  have  done  would  have  been  to  throw 
such  safeguards  about  the  interview  as  would 
have  prevented  such  a  meeting  being  the  cloak 
for  an  ulterior  purpose.  In  addition  to  this, 
Pedro  had  supposedly  suffered  a  collapse,  and 
was  unable  to  leave  his  bed  in  the  cell. 

The  good  priest  came,  and  he  was  left  alone 
with  Pedro  in  his  cell. 

"I  wasn't  goin'  to  butt  in  on  no  such  occasion 
as  thet!"  explained  the  warden,  with  wrathful 
bitterness,  afterward.  "I  set  thar,  right  at  the 

193 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

end  o'  th'  corridor,  not  more'n  forty  feet  away, 
an'  waited  fer  th'  priest  t'  come  out.  I  reckon, 
mebbe,  he  might  'a'  bin  in  thar  half  an  hour,  an' 
I  c'd  hear  Pedro  mumblin'  an'  whinin',  an' 
thought  I  c'd  hear  th'  priest  prayin'!  Bimeby, 
not  hearin'  nuthin',  I  went  t'  th'  door  o'  th'  cell, 
an'  thar  was  th'  priest  ready  t'  come  out  an' 
Pedro  layin'  on  the  bed  some  covered  up.  I  lets 
th'  priest  out,  an'  he  seemed  t'  be  some  affected 
an'  was  sort  o'  sniffin'  an'  holdin'  his  han'k'chief 
up  to  his  eyes  an'  nose,  an'  his  head  sunk  onto  his 
breast. 

"'Pretty  tough  case,  ain't  he?'  I  says  t'  th' 
Father. 

"But  he  never  made  no  answer  —  only  jes' 
shook  his  head  like  he  was  kind  o'  givin'  it  up, 
an'  seen  he  couldn't  make  much  headway 
clearin'  sech  a  skunk  in  th'  sight  o'  th'  Almighty 
—  Pedro  havin'  pressed  th'  limit. 

"fl  guess,'  I  says,  kind  o'  sympathizin'  like, 
*I  wouldn't  waste  no  time  on  him,'  I  says.  'Th' 
good  Lord  is  right  fergivin'  an'  all  thet,'  I  says, 
'but  I  reck'n  yo're  shore  up  against  it  tryin'  t' 
pray  this  bird  square  with  him!  Th'  price  o' 

194 


PEDRO'S  ESCAPE 


coal  is  goin'  up  next  winter,'  I  says,  'fer  th'  Devil 
'11  need  all  the'  is  when  this  here  hombrey  gits 
whar  he  b'longs  — •  'less'n  th'  other  inmates  puts 
up  a  holler  'bout  admittin'  Pedro  int'  th'  place 
an'  givin'  it  a  bad  name!' 

"Y'  see,  I  feels  thet  this  here  good  man  was 
takin'  it  t'  heart  thet  he  couldn't  do  nuthin'  — • 
th'  job  bein'  out  o'  his  class.  An'  I  was  jes'  tryin' 
t'  show  him  thet  the'  couldn't  be  nuthiri*  did  by 
nobuddy  fer  a  man  like  Pedro.  Thet  he  was  over- 
playin'  his  hand,  as  it  were,  an'  I  tried  to  com 
fort  him  a  little  fer  fallin'  down  on  th'  job  an* 
bitin'  off  more'n  he  c'd  chew,  an'  mebbe  gittin* 
himself  in  wrong  by  takin'  up  fer  sech  a  critter 
in  a  dead-open-an'-shut  case  o'  thumbs-down 
like  his'n. 

"An'  I  lets  him  out'n  th'  jail,  feelin'  sorry  fer 
him;  an'  he  goes  off  with  his  head  down  an'  his 
han'k'chief  over  his  face.  Then,  when  it  come 
time  t'  check  up,  mebbe  a  coupla  hours  later,  we 
seen  how  it  was !  Th'  priest  lays  on  th'  bed  in 
th'  cell,  all  covered  up,  an'  a  big  cut  on  his  head, 
whar  Pedro  hed  thumped  him.  An'  thet's  'bout 
all  th'  is  to  it  —  'cept  th'  priest  is  goin'  t'  git 

195 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

well,  an'  Pedro  ain't  bin  ketched.  Lost  my  job? 
Sure!  what  'd  y'  expect?  I'm  pretty  lucky  't  I 
ain't  in  thar  whar  Pedro  was ! " 

The  fact  that  Pedro  had  made  his  escape  from 
the  jail  in  clerical  garments  rendered  his  escape 
from  the  town  all  the  more  easy.  No  one  is 
likely  to  interfere  with  a  priest,  or  to  question  his 
goings  and  comings,  even  though  they  may  seem 
peculiar.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Pedro  induced  a 
rancher  to  give  him  a  lift  behind  him  on  his 
horse  —  the  man  suspecting  nothing.  And  when 
they  arrived  at  a  suitable  place,  Pedro  cracked 
the  rancher  over  the  head  with  the  man's  own 
revolver,  which  Pedro  had  slipped  from  the 
holster;  and  taking  his  horse,  left  the  man  to 
live  or  die  in  the  road,  and  made  for  the  moun 
tains. 

With  two  hours'  start,  and  in  such  a  country, 
it  was  a  difficult  matter  to  locate  or  even  follow 
as  slippery  a  man  as  Pedro.  An  organized  search 
failed  to  uncover  any  trace  of  the  man;  and  after 
a  week  or  ten  days  of  scouring  the  country,  the 
baffled  posse  returned  with  not  even  "progress" 
to  report.  And  when  a  posse  can't  even  report 

196 


PEDRO'S  ESCAPE 


that  —  which  is  the  same  thing  as  saying,  "We 
haven't  done  anything,  but  don't  like  to  say 
so,"  you  maybe  sure  that  the  case  looked  hope 
less. 

Equipped  with  horse,  six-gun,  and  such  other 
things  as  the  kindly  rancher  Samaritan  possessed, 
even  including  his  clothes,  Pedro  struck  off  to 
ward  the  north  for  the  mountains.  He  rode,  day 
and  night,  never  sparing  his  horse;  and  at  the  end 
of  two  days  the  latter  dropped  in  his  tracks. 
But  as  the  outlaw  had  reached  the  foothills 
where  the  horse  would  be  of  little  advantage  to 
him,  he  abandoned  the  animal  with  not  so  much 
as  a  look  back  at  the  patient,  willing  thing  that 
had  brought  him  to  comparative  safety,  and 
struck  into  the  mountains  with  a  good  chance  of 
getting  over  the  Canada  line. 

He  first  visited  the  old  cabin  on  the  Island  in 
Moose  Lake  where  he  had  hidden  when  he  es 
caped  from  the  boys  of  the  Bar  O  at  the  Cross 
and  Circle  ranch,  and  where  he  had  been  when 
Injun  and  Whitey  had  visited  the  island.  It  was 
in  Moose  Lake  that  Injun  and  Whitey  had  cap 
tured  him;  and  Pedro  felt  that  any  extended 

197 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

search  would  inevitably  lead  his  pursuers  to  that 
place.  He  made  his  stay  at  the  lake  as  brief  as 
possible,  on  that  account;  and  after  a  short  rest 
and  sleep,  he  struck  off  to  the  northwest  into 
the  mountains.  After  a  time  he  managed  to  cross 
the  ridge  and  descend  into  the  valley  beyond. 
In  such  a  place  it  is  not  extremely  difficult  to 
live,  even  if  a  man  has  to  depend  entirely  upon 
his  own  resources.  We  read,  every  now  and  then, 
of  sturdy  men  who  go  into  the  wilds  without  even 
clothes  to  cover  their  bodies,  and  manage  to  come 
out  hale  and  hearty  after  some  thirty  days  or 
more.  (I  suppose  the  first  thirty  are  the  hardest ! 
It's  a  good  trick  —  if  they  can  do  it !)  Pedro  was 
not  only  clothed,  but  he  had  a  six-gun  and  the 
ranchman's  cartridge-belt  and  matches.  So,  com 
paratively  speaking,  Pedro  was  well  equipped. 

At  any  rate,  he  managed  to  get  along  for  a 
time  —  long  enough,  in  fact,  to  leave  his  curse 
upon  that  fair  region.  It  seemed  inevitable  that 
disaster  and  evil  should  follow  in  the  wake  of  the 
man,  and  that  any  person  or  anything  that  came 
within  the  influence  of  his  presence  should  feel 
its  malignance. 

198 


PEDRO'S  ESCAPE 


One  day  Pedro  left  his  camp  without  stopping 
to  stamp  out  the  fire! 

That  was  the  same  day  that  Injun  and  Whitey 
stood  upon  the  high  cliff  and  looked  out  over  the 
valley. 

When  Injun  said  that  maybe  a  "white  man" 
had  forgotten  to  stamp  out  his  camp-fire,  he 
knew  what  he  was  talking  about  —  only  Pedro 
was  not  what  is  ordinarily  known  as  "a  white 


man." 


It  was  most  unfortunate,  too,  on  that  occa 
sion,  that  Pedro  chose  to  go  toward  the  north. 
Had  he  chosen  to  go  southward,  even  a  short 
distance  into  the  region  swept  by  the  fire,  he 
would  inevitably  have  perished ;  and  the  demand 
for  coal  in  the  infernal  regions  might  not  have 
been  so  great  as  the  warden  supposed,  because 
Pedro  would  have  had  a  taste  of  what  was  com 
ing  to  him  even  before  he  got  there! 

But  no  such  luck!  He  went  the  other  way  — 
against  the  wind,  instead  of  with  it  —  and  he 
sat  and  watched  from  a  safe  elevation  the  dam 
age  that  his  careless  —  yes,  criminal  act — had 
caused.  If  he  thought  anything  about  it  at  all, 

199 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

he  probably  had  a  feeling  of  satisfaction!  He 
was  glad  to  do  evil  for  Evil's  sake  —  even  when 
good  would  have  been  better  for  him ! 

But  if  Pedro  escaped  "the  frying-pan,"  he 
also  got  into  "the  fire."  The  day  that  he  took 
a  couple  of  shots  at  Injun  and  Whitey  as  they 
crossed  the  ledge,  his  shots  stirred  up  some 
thing.  From  the  valley,  among  the  trees  below 
the  ledge,  he  could  not  possibly  have  recognized 
the  boys  on  account  of  the  distance;  nor,  for  the 
same  reason,  could  he  hope  to  shoot  with  any 
degree  of  accuracy.  Even  if  he  had  deemed  the 
boys  to  be  his  pursuers,  it  would  have  been 
better  for  him  to  have  put  as  great  a  distance  as 
possible  between  them  and  himself,  for  he  must 
have  known  that  he  stood  a  very  slight  chance 
of  hitting  them,  and  that  the  shots  would  draw 
attention  to  him.  But,  no!  He  had  to  try  to  kill 
somebody! 

Unfortunately  • —  for  him  —  however,  there 
was  quite  a  detachment  of  Dakota  Indians 
abroad,  under  the  leadership  of  John  Big  Moose, 
in  connection  with  a  little  mining  business;  and 
the  Indians  proceeded  to  investigate  the  shots, 

200 


PEDRO'S  ESCAPE 


When  Pedro  saw  them,  he  also  made  the  mistake 
of  shooting  at  them  as  he  fled  —  though  they 
had  given  him  no  reason  to  flee,  and  would  not 
have  molested  him  in  any  way.  But,  as  in  the 
case  of  Crowley,  when  a  man  begins  shooting  at 
you,  the  best  plan  is  to  shoot  back,  and  do  the 
investigating  afterwards !  And  that  is  just  what 
the  Dakotas  did. 

And  while  Pedro  managed  to  get  away  from 
the  Indians,  he  not  only  used  up  the  last  of  his 
few  remaining  cartridges,  but  got  himself  in  bad 
with  the  only  people  in  that  entire  region  who- 
would  or  could  have  helped  him !  Now,  the  hand 
of  every  man,  red  or  white,  was  against  him;  and 
an  empty  six-gun  isn't  the  best  thing  in  the 
world  with  which  to  face  the  situation  that 
surely  lay  before  him ! 

He  ducked  and  dodged  and  hid  himself  for 
a  few  days,  afraid  to  go  this  way  and  afraid 
to  go  that,  and  really  not  knowing  exactly 
where  he  was,  anyhow;  until,  in  order  to  escape 
from  two  Indians  that  he  encountered  over  on 
the  eastern  slope  of  the  mountain,  he  took  ref 
uge  in  a  small  cave  or  crack  between  the  rocks,, 

201 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

the  mouth  of  which  was  partially  covered  by 
brush. 

The  next  thing  Pedro  knew,  Whitey,  with  his 
hands  tied  behind  him,  was  thrust  into  the  cave 
with  him !  And  you  may  be  sure  that  Pedro,  in 
the  darkness  of  the  cave,  did  not  know  that  it 
was  Whitey! 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
INJUN'S  NOBLE  LOYALTY 

THE  great  responsibility  that  had  been  placed 
upon  Injun's  shoulders  by  being  made  the  go- 
between  for  the  two  factions  weighed  heavily 
upon  the  boy.  He  felt  that  upon  what  he  did 
depended  Whitey's  fate,  and  he  set  out  upon 
his  mission  with  a  determination  to  bring  about 
some  kind  of  a  settlement. 

It  is  not  unlikely  that  he  did  not  think  about 
himself  at  all,  although  there  could  be  no  doubt 
that  he  was  in  a  position  of  the  greatest  danger. 
He  could  not  hope  to  reach  the  mine  and  John 
Big  Moose  unobserved  by  the  Dakotas  who 
acted  as  scouts  and  pickets,  or  those  who  kept 
guard  about  the  mine  itself. 

Up  the  hill  he  went,  his  right  hand  upheld  in 
salutation,  and  with  no  visible  weapons  upon  his 
person.  He  had  not,  however,  given  up  the  knife 
that  he  had  carried  in  his  breast. 

When  he  got  within  hailing  distance  of  the 
little  plateau  upon  which  the  mine  was  situated, 

203 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

he  hallooed,  and  then  waited  for  an  answer.  Get 
ting  no  response,  he  advanced  a  few  yards,  and 
then  called  again.  Not  until  he  had  repeated 
this  action  again  was  there  any  evidence  that 
he  had  been  heard.  As  he  was  about  to  advance 
and  call  again,  two  of  the  Dakotas  came  from 
opposite  sides  of  the  woods,  and  assuring  them 
selves  that  he  was  alone,  they  accompanied  him 
in  silence  to  the  mine. 

John  Big  Moose  received  Injun  with  an  atti 
tude  that  showed  neither  cordiality  nor  unfriend 
liness.  But  there  was  in  John  Big  Moose's  na 
ture  a  certain  something  — •  a  big,  fine  sense  of 
justice  which  would  not  allow  him  to  do  a  boy 
a  wrong.  Injun  was  a  Dakota  —  one  of  his  own 
race.  Therefore,  John  Big  Moose  ordered  the 
two  Indians  who  had  brought  Injun  to  the  mine 
to  join  the  others  while  he  spoke  with  the  boy 
alone.  He  did  not  want  to  risk  the  chance  of 
his  braves'  anger  directed  against  the  boy  —  one 
of  their  own  people  —  if  he  brought  a  message 
which  offended  them.  So  John  Big  Moose  spoke 
to  Injun  in  the  language  of  the  white  race. 

Injun  delivered  the  message  as  best  he  could. 
204 


INJUN'S  NOBLE  LOYALTY 

The  Crows  had  captured  Whitey  and  himself  and 
were  holding  them  as  hostage  —  he  evidently  re 
garded  himself  as  out  upon  a  parole  which  could 
not  be  broken,  and  in  reality  just  as  much  a  pris 
oner  as  Whitey.  As  the  price  of  Whitey' s  release 
— •  Injun  did  not  consider  that  he,  himself,  cut 
any  figure  in  the  offer  —  the  Crows  demanded 
the  return  of  their  horses  and  outfit,  as  well  as 
a  share  in  the  mine.  If  this  offer  were  rejected 
both  he  and  Whitey  would  be  killed,  and  the 
Crows  would  attack  the  Dakotas  at  the  mine 
and  fight  it  out  to  the  bitter  end. 

John  Big  Moose  had  listened  gravely  to  In 
jun's  message,  and  when  the  boy  had  finished, 
he  sat  in  silence  for  a  few  moments  before  speak 
ing.  "Why  should  I  give  up  anything  to  save 
this  white  boy?"  he  asked,  finally. 

Injun  did  not  reply,  but  waited  for  the  chief  to 
go  on. 

"Why  should  the  Crows  think  I  care  any 
thing  about  him?  Do  they  think  that  because 
you  two  boys  came  to  them  to  talk  peace  that 
you  belong  to  us?" 

"Me  tell  'em  not  with  you  —  they  say  me 
205 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

lie!"  replied  Injun;  and  he  went  on  to  relate  the 
happenings  after  they  had  left  the  mine  —  how 
they  released  Crowley  and  took  sides  against  the 
Crows. 

"But  why  should  this  be  put  up  to  me?" 
asked  John.  "What  have  I  to  do  with  it?  The 
Crows  attacked  us  and  we  beat  them  off.  Later, 
we  took  their  horses,  and  now  they  try  to  frighten 
me  into  giving  them  back  —  and  a  share  in  the 
mine,  too  —  by  threatening  to  kill  you  two  boys ! 
Don't  they  know  that  the  white  men  will  surely 
come  and  punish  them  for  a  murder  like  that? 
Don't  they  know  that  the  punishment  may  in- , 
elude  all  the  Indians  in  this  country?" 

"Get  heap  mad,"  explained  Injun.  "They 
say  white  man  make  you  say  yes.  They  say 
white  man  come,  take  'way  gol'-mine." 

"The  Crows  said  that  for  my  benefit,"  said 
John,  angrily.  "They  believed  that  you  would 
tell  me  of  it  to  save  yourself  and  your  frienc^! 
Well,  it  won't  work!"  he  continued,  hotly.  "I 
will  make  no  terms  with  them  whatever !  If  they 
kill  the  white  boy,  they  will  have  to  take  the 
blame!  As  for  yourself,"  he  added,  looking  at 

206 


Injun  keenly,  "you  can  save  yourself  now.  I 
will  give  you  your  guns  and  you  can  make  good 
your  escape  while  they  are  waiting  my  answer." 

Injun  made  no  move  to  accept  this  offer;  in 
fact,  he  seemed  to  deem  it  scarcely  worthy  of  an 
answer  at  all,  but  at  once  entered  into  an  earnest 
appeal  that  John  Big  Moose  do  something  to  save 
Whitey. 

"Why  should  I?"  asked  John.  "You  boys 
interfered  when  you  had  no  right  to  do  so.  You 
went  to  the  Crows  to  talk,  and  when  you  were 
admitted  to  their  camp,  you  took  advantage  of 
your  position  to  free  the  man  who  is  their  enemy, 
and  whom  they  had  made  a  prisoner.  If  you 
were  men  you  would  be  killed.  It  is  only  be 
cause  you  are  boys  that  you  are  entitled  to  any 
sympathy  at  all." 

"White  man  we  let  go  savewhite  boy's  life,  cat 
tle  rustlers  want  kill  him  at  Cross  Circle  ranch," 
explained  Injun,  stout  in  his  defense  of  Whitey. 

"That  all  may  be,"  said  John,  "but  it  has 
nothing  to  do  with  this  case.  And,  anyway,  why 
do  you  say  'we'  —  why  didn't  you  let  the  white 
boy  do  it?  What  did  you  mix  in  for?" 

207 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

Injun  looked  at  John  Big  Moose  almost  con 
temptuously. 

"White  boy  an'  me  friend,"  he  said,  simply,  as 
though  that  settled  everything  —  as  indeed  it 
did,  as  far  as  Injun  was  concerned. 

"Well,  even  if  that  is  the  reason,"  argued 
John,  who  had  a  hard  time  in  concealing  his  ad 
miration  for  the  boy  before  him,  "I  don't  see 
why  I  should  be  asked  —  and  the  Dakotas 
should  be  asked  —  to  pay  for  what  you  two  boys 
did.  Don't  you  see  that  it  is  unreasonable?" 

"Dunno,"  replied  Injun,  stolidly;  amus'  save 
him." 

"What  you  say  does  you  credit,"  said  John, 
gravely, "  but  you  must  remember  that  I  have  our 
own  people  to  deal  with — to  account  to.  What 
am  I  going  to  say  to  them  if  I  surrender  what  I 
have  already  won  and  which  belongs  to  them?" 

"You  chief,"  said  Injun;  "Dakota  know  chief 
big  medicine  man." 

"That's  just  it!"  answered  John.  "I'm  chief 
because  they  think  that  I  am  wise!  I'm  afraid 
they  wouldn't  think  me  wise  if  I  did  such  a  thing 
as  you  ask  me  to  do!" 

208 


INJUN'S  NOBLE  LOYALTY 

Injun  evidently  felt  that  it  was  useless  to  pur 
sue  the  matter  further,  and  he  started  to  turn 
away. 

"Wait  a  moment!"  said  John.  "Where  are 
you  going?" 

Injun  looked  at  John  in  surprise.  "I  go  back 
Crows,  tell  'em ! "  And  in  the  boy's  face  was  that 
which  meant  the  decision  that  any  other  course 
was  unthinkable. 

"Didn't  the  Crows  say  that  they  would  kill 
you,  too?"  asked  John. 

"Yes,"  answered  Injun,  simply,  and  in  a  tone 
which  showed  that  he  didn't  see  what  that  had 
to  do  with  his  going  back. 

"Why  don't  you  take  your  gun  and  go  the 
other  way?"  urged  John,  as  he  took  the  boy  by 
the  arm  and  looked  into  his  eyes.  "You  can't  do 
your  friend  any  good  by  going  back!  And  you'll 
only  be  making  a  useless  sacrifice!" 

"I  go  back,"  said  Injun,  quietly. 


CHAPTER  XIX 
WHITEY  FIGHTS  PEDRO 

To  say  that  Whitey  was  startled  when  he  recog 
nized  Pedro's  voice  in  the  darkness  of  the  cave 
would  not  express  it  at  all.  But  Whitey  was  not 
the  kind  of  a  boy  that  loses  his  head  and  becomes 
panicky  in  time  of  danger.  He  knew,  of  course, 
from  Pedro's  offer  to  untie  his  hands  that  the 
outlaw  had  not  recognized  him,  and  that  as  long 
as  he  could  remain  unknown  to  the  man  he 
would  be  safe  enough,  and  might  even  get  some 
assistance  from  him  —  as  the  offer  to  untie  his 
hands  indicated. 

In  accordance  with  Pedro's  suggestion,  Whitey 
turned  over  on  his  side  with  his  back  to  Pedro, 
and  in  a  moment  or  two  he  felt  the  tough  thongs 
slip  from  his  hands  and  they  were  free.  He 
knew,  also  • —  and  the  knowledge  was  a  consider 
able  comfort  —  that  Pedro  had  no  knife,  or  he 
would  not  have  gone  to  the  trouble  of  untying 
the  knot,  but  would  have  cut  it. 

He  felt  that,  man  to  man,  he  would  have  an 
210 


WHITEY  FIGHTS  PEDRO 


excellent  chance  with  Pedro  if  it  came  to  a  fight; 
for  the  man  was  but  a  trifle  taller  than  Whitey, 
and  the  boy  believed  that  he  had  the  advantage 
of  considerable  science  in  both  wrestling  and  box 
ing.  Added  to  this  was  that  great  advantage 
which  clean  living  brings  to  one  who  has  prac 
ticed  it,  over  an  opponent  who  has  spent  his  life 
in  dissipation. 

These  and  a  thousand  other  thoughts  went 
through  Whitey's  mind  with  incredible  rapidity; 
and  for  a  moment  he  lay  still  trying  to  formulate 
a  course  of  action.  He  was  inclined  for  a  moment 
to  turn  upon  Pedro  and  try  to  throttle  him  right 
there;  but  he  dismissed  this,  not  knowing  to  a 
certainty  that  Pedro  was  entirely  resourceless  in 
the  wray  of  weapons.  If  the  man  should  happen 
to  have  a  revolver  about  him,  things  would  be  a 
trifle  awkward.  He  therefore  edged  a  little  away 
from  Pedro,  and  determined  to  let  events  take 
their  course  and  to  shape  his  action  accordingly; 
not  forgetting,  however,  to  keep  the  sharpest  of 
watches  upon  the  renegade  beside  him,  both 
with  eyes  and  ears. 

It  is  perhaps  unnecessary  to  say  that  Pedro 

211 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

was  looking  out  for  nobody  else  in  the  world  but 
Pedro;  and  on  that  account  he  was  very  chary 
about  carrying  on  much  of  a  conversation,  as 
Indians  have  sharp  ears,  and  even  a  whisper 
might  betray  his  presence,  which  was  as  yet  un- 
suspected  by  the  two  Indians  who  kept  guard 
at  the  mouth  of  the  hole.  This  exactly  suited 
Whitey;  for  while  he  did  not  believe  Pedro 
would  recognize  his  voice  if  he  disguised  it  and 
spoke  in  a  whisper,  yet  there  was  a  chance;  and 
he  preferred  to  take  Pedro  unawares,  when  it 
came  down  to  a  fight,  rather  than  to  have  Pedro 
have  that  advantage. 

When  it  seemed  to  Whitey  that  he  had  been  in 
the  cave  for  hours,  but  in  reality  not  more  than 
fifteen  or  twenty  minutes,  he  crawled  a  little 
toward  the  mouth,  keeping  his  face  and  profile 
well  concealed  from  Pedro's  gaze,  and  endeav 
ored  to  observe  the  guards.  He  felt  that  there 
was  little  chance  of  being  recognized  by  Pedro, 
for  even  at  the  mouth  of  the  hole  the  light  was 
very  dim,  and  he  would  be  in  silhouette. 

Whitey  found  that  the  guards  were  still  there, 
seated  on  the  ledge  at  some  distance  from  the 

212 


WHITEY  FIGHTS  PEDRO 


opening,  and  in  such  a  position  that  any  surprise 
attack  from  him  would  be  futile.  Their  rifles  lay 
across  their  knees,  and  there  was  no  opportunity, 
to  secure  one  of  the  guns  or  any  other  weapon. 
In  the  hole,  however,  Whitey  had  sat,  more  or 
less  painfully,  upon  a  round  stone,  perhaps  three 
inches  in  diameter,  and  this  he  clutched  in  his 
hand,  feeling  that  it  might  be  available  in  case  of 
a  fight  with  Pedro,  or  even  with  one  of  the  guards 
should  he  be  left  alone  on  duty.  There  seemed 
little  likelihood  of  this,  however,  for  the  two  In 
dians  had  settled  down  as  though  they  expected 
a  long  wait.  The  low  roof  of  the  cave  made 
throwing  the  stone  difficult,  as  Whitey  found  by 
getting  on  his  feet;  but  he  figured  that  he  might 
be  able  to  pull  aside  the  bushes  that  covered  the 
hole,  and  stepping  out  quickly,  could,  perhaps, 
bowl  over  one  of  the  Indians  before  he  would 
have  a  chance  to  shoot.  This  was  a  desperate 
chance,  but  in  a  situation  like  this,  it  is  well  to 
calculate  all  the  chances. 

As  Whitey  watched,  his  face  close  to  the  bush 
at  the  mouth  of  the  hole,  he  heard  the  sound  of 
firing  at  a  distance.  The  guards  also  heard  it, 

213 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

and  rose  to  their  feet  and  listened.  Again  the 
firing  was  repeated  and  continued  —  not  in 
volleys,  but  here  and  there  and  at  irregular  in 
tervals.  It  seemed  to  Whitey  that  there  could 
be  but  one  cause  for  this  —  the  two  bands  of  In 
dians  had  come  together  and  were  fighting  it  out. 
This  also  seemed  to  be  the  opinion  of  the  guards; 
for  after  a  short  consultation,  one  of  them  hur 
ried  away  in  the  direction  of  the  firing,  and  the 
other  Indian  stood  looking  after  his  departing 
comrade  and  listening  to  the  firing.  Now  was 
Whitey's  chance!  If  he  were  looking  for  an  op 
portunity  to  get  away  from  his  captors  he  would 
never  have  a  more  favorable  one! 

In  his  eagerness  to  take  advantage  of  the  situ 
ation  —  the  remaining  Indian  was  not  paying 
the  slightest  attention  to  the  cave  —  Whitey 
almost  made  the  mistake  of  throwing  the  rock 
before  the  departing  Indian  was  out  of  sight  or 
sound  of  what  went  on  at  the  ledge.  But  the  boy 
caught  himself  in  time,  and  restrained  his  im 
pulse  to  "bean"  the  Indian  at  once.  Here  was 
where  a  little  baseball  practice  would  come  in 
handy! 

214 


WHITEY  FIGHTS  PEDRO 


When  it  seemed  to  Whitey  that  the  departing 
Indian  must  be  far  enough  away,  Whitey  braced 
himself  for  the  ordeal.  He  crouched  in  the 
mouth  of  the  hole  and  drew  the  bushes  aside 
cautiously  and  noiselessly.  Stepping  out  clear 
of  the  low  roof,  he  drew  back  his  hand  with  the 
heavy  rock  in  it.  The  Indian  stood  near  the  edge 
of  the  ledge,  almost  with  his  back  toward  Whitey 
and  all  unconscious  of  his  peril.  Something  must 
have  warned  him  of  his  danger,  however,  for  he 
started  to  turn  toward  the  cave;  but  he  was  just 
too  late!  Whitey  let  the  rock  fly  with  all  the 
strength  that  his  pitching-arm  contained,  and  it 
struck  the  Indian  on  the  jaw  just  in  front  of  his 
ear.  Without  a  sound  the  Indian  crumpled  and 
fell  over  the  side  of  the  ledge  and  rolled  and 
tumbled  and  slid  to  the  rocks,  fifty  feet  below ! 

So  excited  was  Whitey  over  the  success  of  his 
maneuver  that,  for  a  second  or  two,  he  forgot  all 
about  Pedro;  but  he  was  brought  to  a  realization 
that  his  fight  was  but  half  won  when  he  heard  a 
voice  from  the  mouth  of  the  hole  cry,  "Da's 
ver'  good  shot!"  and  turning  quickly  he  stood 
face  to  face  with  the  outlaw ! 

215 


When  Whitey  had  thrown  the  rock  he  had 
stood  with  his  back  toward  Pedro,  and  the  latter 
had  not  recognized  him;  but  now  they  stood  con 
fronting  each  other,  and  there  could  be  no  doubt 
about  identities. 

The  startled  look  that  first  came  upon  Pedro's 
face  gave  way  to  one  of  fiendish  joy  and  satis 
faction.  This  was  too  much  luck!  Here  he 
stood,  not  only  delivered  from  the  pursuing  In 
dians,  but  with  the  object  of  his  hatred  right 
in  his  grasp!  And  leering  like  a  hyena  Pedro 
started  to  advance  craftily  and  with  devilish 
deliberation  upon  the  boy.  But  Pedro  was  des 
tined  to  get  the  surprise  of  his  life! 

"Ah  ha!"  snarled  Pedro,  his  face  cracking 
open  in  a  wicked  grin  and  his  little  eyes  narrowed 
to  slits,  "here  ees  ma  yo'ng  fr'en'  zat  geeve 
Pedro  nize  ride  to  ze  ranch!  Ma  yo'ng  fr'en'  zat 
tak'  my  peekshur'!  Yo'  hav'  planty  fun  wiz 
Pedro  —  yaas?  Now  Pedro  go'n'  hav'  planty 
fun  wiz  yo'!  Ain'  no  wan  go'n'  tak'  yo'  peek- 
shur'  whan  Pedro  gets  th'o  wiz  yo' ! " 

Whatever  of  advantage  there  was  in  position, 
Pedro  had.  At  his  back  was  the  wall  of  solid 

216 


THE    LUST  OF   BATTLE   WAS   IN   HIS   VEINS 


WHITEY  FIGHTS  PEDRO 


rock,  and  behind  Whitey  was  the  almost  sheer 
drop  of  the  fifty-foot  cliff.  If  Pedro  rushed  him 
the  momentum  would  be  apt  to  topple  Whitey 
over  the  edge  in  the  same  manner  that  the  In 
dian  had  fallen,  but  Whitey  made  up  his  mind 
that  if  he  went  over,  Pedro  would  go,  too!  The 
advantage  of  weight,  too,  was  with  Pedro,  al 
though  he  outweighed  the  boy  not  more  than  fif 
teen  pounds.  In  the  matter  of  quickness  Whitey 
far  outclassed  his  opponent  —  he  was  satisfied 
of  that;  but  whether  he  also  excelled  in  science 
remained  to  be  seen.  Whitey  knew  that  some  of 
the  ex-lumber-jacks  from  the  Canada  woods,  of 
whom  Pedro  was  one,  were  skilled  in  wrestling 
and  rough-and-tumble  fighting,  but  very  few  of 
them  knew  much  of  real  boxing.  Their  idea  of 
boxing  was  simply  to  sail  in  and  wallop  away 
until  one  or  the  other  fell.  If  this  turned  out  to 
be  Pedro's  method,  Whitey  felt  that  he  had,  at 
least,  an  even  break.  He  would  avoid  clinching, 
and  pepper  his  man  with  the  "hit-and-get- 
away." 

With  these  things  in  his  mind  Whitey  ad 
vanced  to  meet  the  man !  The  lust  of  battle  was 

217 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

in  his  veins,  and  there  was  no  fear  in  his  face  or 
in  his  heart.  Rather,  he  welcomed  the  trial! 

"Oh,  you're  going  to  have  'planty  fun  wiz 
me,'  huh?"  taunted  Whitey.  "Well,  come  on! 
I'll  give  you  all  the  fun  you  want !  And  when  I've 
knocked  your  block  off,  I'm  going  to  take  you 
back  to  jail  again!  What  do  you  know  about 
that?  Maybe  I  can  get  another  thousand  dollars 
for  that!  Did  you  know  that  they  paid  Injun 
and  me  a  thousand  dollars  each  for  bringing  you 
in  before?  That's  a  pretty  high  price  for  dog- 
meat,  too,  isn't  it!" 

The  moment  that  a  man  loses  his  temper  in 
a  boxing  bout  —  or  in  almost  any  other  kind  of 
competition,  for  that  matter  —  he  is  at  a  dis 
advantage.  The  phrase,  "blind  fury,"  means 
exactly  what  it  says.  A  man  who  is  furious  not 
only  loses  control  of  himself  so  that  he  cannot  do 
his  best,  but  he  also  is  blind  to  opportunities 
which  he  would  otherwise  see  and  embrace.  It 
was  with  this  in  mind  that  Whitey  taunted 
Pedro  as  he  did. 

And  it  worked.  The  man  was  not  only  aston 
ished  and  enraged  at  the  assurance  of  this  boy 

218 


WHITEY  FIGHTS  PEDRO 


who  defied  him  and  actually  advanced  to  meet 
him  with  all  the  confidence  in  the  world  in  his 
face  and  manner,  but  he  was  infuriated  to  think 
that  his  two  most  hated  enemies  had  profited  by 
his  misfortune.  He  would  seize  this  upstart  and 
wring  his  neck  for  him !  And  he  rushed  at  Whitey 
swinging  his  arms  like  flails. 

But,  unfortunately  for  Pedro,  he  did  not  hit 
anything  more  solid  than  the  air;  and  with  his 
guard  open,  Whitey  poked  a  straight  left  into 
Pedro's  face,  and  followed  it  with  another  and 
another,  before  the  man  could  get  his  bearings. 
Pedro's  nose  took  on  a  rosy  hue,  and  he  sniffed 
and  wiped  away  a  trickle  of  blood  with  his  sleeve. 

"That's  one  they  didn't  show  you!"  taunted 
Whitey.  "I've  got  a  few  more  here  that  you 
read  about  — •  that  is,  if  you  can  read,  which  I 
don't  suppose  you  can !  /  know  you  can't  when 
I  get  through  decorating  that  other  eye  for  you ! " 

Pedro  let  out  a  bellow  of  rage  and  a  volley  of 
oaths,  shut  his  eyes,  and  made  a  rush  at  Whitey 
like  a  mad  bull.  This  time  Whitey's  back  was 
against  the  wall  of  rock  —  he  had  maneuvered 
Pedro  around  with  his  back  to  the  edge  of  the 

219 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

ledge  —  and  when  Whitey  side-stepped  and 
ducked,  Pedro  crashed  into  the  wall  and  landed 
a  solid  thump  upon  it  that  nearly  broke  his  arm 
and  badly  lacerated  his  knuckles.  He  bumped 
back  from  the  rock,  in  a  half-dazed  way,  but  was 
still  swinging  wildly.  When  he  opened  his  eyes, 
he  saw  Whitey  standing  ten  feet  away  from  him, 
his  arms  at  his  sides,  and  laughing  heartily. 

"What's  the  matter,  old  Timer?"  asked 
the  laughing  Whitey.  "Here  I  am,  over  here! 
That  was  sure  a  haymaker  you  landed  on  that 
rock!" 

Pedro  had  gathered  himself  together  and 
seemed  to  have  determined  that  these  blind 
rushes  weren't  going  to  get  him  anything,  and 
he  started  to  edge  toward  Whitey  in  a  manner 
that  is  known  as  "crowding."  But  Whitey 
knew  just  how  to  handle  a  "crowder"  —  at  any 
rate,  such  a  crowder  as  Pedro. 

"Look  out!"  shouted  Whitey,  pointing. 
"Back  of  you!" 

And  the  foolish  Pedro,  taken  by  surprise, 
turned  his  head  to  look  back  of  him  for  just 
one  quarter  of  a  second!  And  Whitey,  putting 

220 


WHITEY  FIGHTS  PEDRO 


about  all  he  had  into  a  right  swing,  knocked 
him  flat! 

Had  the  punch  landed  on  the  right  spot,  it 
would  probably  have  ended  the  fight;  but  it  was 
a  trifle  high;  and  while  Pedro  went  down  hard 
enough,  he  was  by  no  means  out.  Aside  from 
Whitey's  natural  disinclination  to  hit  even  so 
despicable  a  thing  as  Pedro  when  he  was  down, 
Whitey  did  not  feel  that  the  time  had  yet  come 
when  it  would  be  safe  to  grapple  with  the  man; 
and  Pedro  staggered  to  his  feet.  Of  course, 
Whitey  was  all  over  him,  jabbing  and  hooking 
wherever  he  saw  an  opening,  but  had  no  chance 
to  land  another  haymaker.  Pedro  was  "dog 
ging  it,"  after  the  manner  of  the  most  arrant 
quitter,  and  kept  his  arms  folded  in  front  of  his 
face;  and  the  crouch  that  he  assumed  prevented 
Whitey  from  landing  effectively  on  his  stomach. 
One  or  two  snappy  upper-cuts  sufficed  to 
straighten  him  up,  however;  and  then,  baffled 
and  beaten  at  every  turn,  his  face  a  mass  of  cuts 
and  bruises,  with  a  nose  like  a  ripe  tomato,  both 
of  his  eyes  discolored  and  rapidly  closing,  his 
wind  gone,  and  his  strength  going  fast,  he  stood 

221 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

glaring  at  Whitey,  the  picture  of  desperation  and 
defeat,  his  back  against  the  wall  of  the  rock. 

"You're  having  'planty  fun,'  ain't  you,  Pe 
dro?"  taunted  Whitey,  jabbing  the  sore  nose  two 
or  three  times,  and  maneuvering  for  an  opening. 
"You'd  like  to  quit,  wouldn't  you?  But  you 
can't!  That's  a  tough  fix  for  a  coward  and  a  bully 
—  to  want  to  quit  and  can't!  After  I  hit  you  a 
couple  more,  I'm  going  to  take  you  back  to  jail! 
But  I  guess  you'll  have  to  have  your  picture 
taken  first!  I  wish  you  could  see  yourself!  You're 
a  fine-looking  — " 

Pedro  shut  his  eyes  and  put  everything  that 
he  had  left  into  a  last  desperate  rush;  but  Whitey 
side-stepped,  and  Pedro  went  floundering  by. 
There  was  nothing  to  stop  him  this  time;  and  he 
blundered  over  the  brink  of  the  ledge!  With 
a  cry  of  rage  and  terror,  he  fell  fifty  feet  to  the 
rocks  below. 

Whitey  went  to  the  edge  of  the  ledge  and 
looked  over.  There  was  no  reason  for  him  to  take 
Pedro  back  to  jail  now! 


CHAPTER  XX 
THE  REWARD  OF  BRAVERY 

THE  receding  form  of  Injun,  a  pathetic  figure, 
had  scarcely  been  lost  among  the  trees  below  the 
plateau  of  the  mine,  when  John  Big  Moose  and 
the  Dakotas  proceeded  to  get  busy.  John's 
heart  had  gone  out  to  the  boy  in  his  loyalty  to 
his  friend,  and  if  anybody  supposed  that  Mr. 
Big  Moose  was  going  to  sit  idly  by  and  let  the 
Crows  have  a  chance  to  perpetrate  any  such 
outrage  as  they  had  threatened,  he  was  much 
mistaken.  And  before  Injun  was  a  hundred 
yards  away  from  the  mine,  the  gliding  figures 
of  the  Dakotas  trailed  him  through  the  thick 
forest. 

It  was  not  in  the  mind  of  John  Big  Moose  that 
the  boy  should  ever  reach  the  camp  of  the  Crows 
and  run  the  risk,  even  for  a  moment,  of  being 
a  sacrifice  on  the  altar  of  his  loyal  friendship. 
While  he  had  his  doubts  as  to  whether  they 
would  carry  out  the  threat,  as  far  as  the  white 
boy  was  concerned,  he  feared  that  Injun,  con- 

223 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

tributing  to  their  defeat  as  he  had,  and  returning 
from  an  unsuccessful  mission,  would  fall  a  vic 
tim  to  their  wrath.  But  what  he  did  want  was  to 
know  the  exact  location  of  the  Crow  camp,  and 
he  knew  that  this  could  be  obtained  in  the  man 
ner  which  he  was  employing.  Perhaps,  too,  he 
wanted  to  test  the  boy's  fine  sincerity.  And 
when  it  became  evident  that  they  must  be  near- 
ing  the  Crow  camp,  two  of  the  braves  stole  up 
and  seized  the  boy,  and  hustled  him  back  to  the 
rear  of  their  company. 

Injun  protested  to  John  Big  Moose,  vigor 
ously. 

The  latter  smiled.  "You  are  much  too  good  a 
boy  to  take  any  such  chances  with!"  explained 
John.  "And,  besides,  this  isn't  your  fight."  But 
he  handed  Injun  the  two  guns  belonging  to  him 
and  Whitey. 

"Me  fight  —  for  my  friend!"  said  Injun,  still 
protesting. 

"You  stay  back  here  until  the  attack  is  made," 
said  John,  "  and  then  you  can  come  up  in  time  to 
help  save  your  friend." 

But  Injun  would  hear  to  nothing  like  this,  and 
224 


THE  REWARD  OF  BRAVERY 

he  stole  from  tree  to  tree  as  the  silent  approach 
advanced. 

Once  the  camp  of  the  Crows  was  located,  the 
Dakotas  spread  out  in  fan-shape,  covering  the 
uphill  side;  and  in  this  formation  they  advanced 
stealthily,  crawling  upon  the  ground,  and  making 
no  noise  whatever,  and  exposing  themselves  as 
little  as  possible.  In  this  way  they  contrived  to 
get  within  easy  range  of  the  Crows  before  they 
were  detected. 

It  is  probable  that  this  could  not  have  hap 
pened  had  not  the  Crows  been  in  a  partially  de 
moralized  condition.  They  were  by  no  means 
unanimous  in  regard  to  the  course  of  action  which 
they  were  taking,  many  of  them  wishing  to  aban 
don  the  ill-starred  expedition,  begun  under  the 
leadership  of  Crowley,  and  resulting  in  nothing, 
so  far,  but  reverses  and  disappointments. 

No  resistance  worthy  of  the  name  was  made 
against  the  Dakotas,  and  after  a  few  scattering 
shots  had  been  fired  at  the  attacking  party,  the 
Crows  took  to  their  heels  and  ran,  with  the  Da 
kotas  in  pursuit. 

Nor  did  the  pursuit  carry  very  far;  little  could 
225 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

be  gained  by  a  wholesale  slaughter  of  the  band, 
and  much  might  be  lost  by  leaving  the  mine. 
The  casualties  had  been  few;  three  of  the  Crows 
were  known  to  have  been  wounded,  and  one  of 
the  Dakotas  had  been  winged;  but  the  wounded 
Crows  had  been  able  to  get  away  without  much 
help  from  their  own  men.  John  Big  Moose  was 
satisfied  that  he  need  look  for  no  further  opposi 
tion  from  the  Crows,  and  he  was  willing  to  let 
the  matter  rest  where  it  was. 

The  only  person  who  was  distinctly  dissatis 
fied  was  Injun.  Whitey  was  nowhere  to  be 
found !  Many  of  the  Dakotas,  John  Big  Moose 
among  them,  and  Injun,  himself,  had  had  a  clear 
view  of  the  camp  at  the  time  of  the  attack,  and 
were  positive  that  Whitey  had  not  been  there  at 
the  time;  and  they  were  equally  sure  that  he  had 
not  been  carried  away  by  the  retreating  Indians. 
Each  of  the  fleeing  Crows  appeared  to  have 
enough  to  do  to  take  care  of  himself  and  the  three 
wounded  men  without  bothering  about  Whitey. 
Whitey  had  certainly  been  left  at  the  camp 
when  Injun  had  started  on  his  mission  to  John 
Big  Moose,  but  he  was  not  there  now !  And  there 

226 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

seemed  to  be  but  two  alternatives  —  either  he 
had  escaped  or  he  had  been  taken  away  by  some 
of  the  band  for  safe-keeping.  The  former  suppo 
sition  was  improbable,  for  when  the  Dakotas 
attacked,  the  Crows  had  been  at  the  camp  in  a 
body,  and  this  would  not  have  been  the  case  if 
Whitey  had  made  an  escape.  They  would  cer 
tainly  have  been  out  in  search  of  the  ace  which 
they  intended  to  play. 

The  latter  supposition  seemed  more  probable; 
and  under  the  orders  of  John  Big  Moose  some 
six  or  seven  of  the  Dakotas  started  off  in  differ 
ent  directions  to  scour  the  woods,  the  remaining 
men  returning  to  the  mine. 

Injun  tore  around  like  a  bird-dog,  looking  for 
some  clue  or  track;  and  after  a  few  moments  he 
found  the  trail  that  had  been  left  by  Whitey  and 
his  two  guards  when  they  had  started  on  their 
way  to  the  cave,  and  together  with  John  Big 
Moose  started  to  follow  it.  Of  course  they  could 
not  be  sure  that  this  was  Whitey's  trail,  for  the 
footprints  were  not  plain  at  that  point,  but  it  was 
certain  that  somebody  had  left  the  camp. 

Owing  to  the  nature  of  the  ground  the  trail 
227 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

was  very  difficult  to  follow;  but  the  keen  eyes  of 
Injun,  supplemented  by  those  of  John,  who  was 
no  amateur  in  such  matters,  led  them  aright;  and 
they  had  not  gone  more  than  two  hundred  yards 
before,  in  a  soft  spot  in  the  ground,  was  revealed 
the  fact  that  Whitey  had  made  the  trail.  His 
somewhat  smaller,  white  man's  foot  was  plainly 
visible,  with  Indian  feet  on  either  side  of  it. 

Once  a  tracker  knows  that  he  is  on  the  right 
trail,  much  of  the  difficulty  is  avoided,  and  it  is 
far  easier  to  follow  it  speedily.  Now  Injun  and 
John  went  ahead  rapidly — almost  as  fast,  in 
fact,  as  Whitey  and  the  two  guards  had  gone 
when  they  had  made  it. 

At  a  certain  place  in  the  trail,  as  it  led  sharply 
around  a  high,  sheer  cliff,  John  Big  Moose  hap 
pened  to  be  in  the  lead,  with  Injun  some  two  or 
three  paces  behind  him.  As  John  rounded  the 
cliff  Injun  heard  a  rough  voice  say: 

"Put  up  yer  hands,  yo'  big,  red  Piute!  An' 
drop  thet  gun!" 

Stopping  still  in  his  tracks,  Injun  saw  John 
obey  the  order  in  a  manner  that  showed  he  had  no 
chance  to  do  otherwise.  Injun  ducked  off  to  the 

228 


THE  REWARD  OF  BRAVERY 

side  of  the  trail  and  hid  behind  a  tree,  gradually 
and  noiselessly  working  his  way  to  a  point  where 
he  could  get  a  view  of  what  was  going  on.  Soon 
he  heard  the  calm  tones  of  John's  voice:  "Well, 
now  that  I  have  done  as  you  suggested,  what  else 
do  you  want  me  to  do  ?  And  if  it  is  all  the  same  to 
you,  I  prefer  not  to  be  called  a  Piute  —  I  am  a 
Dakota." 

Although  Injun  could  not  see  it,  he  could  feel 
the  surprise  that  staggered  the  white  man  at 
hearing  an  Indian  express  himself  in  perfect 
English.  For  a  second  or  two  there  was  com 
plete  silence;  then  he  heard  the  voice,  which  he 
recognized  as  that  of  Crowley,  say,  in  astonished 
tones,  "  Sufferin'  dictionaries !  Why,  yo'  hostile, 
ab'riginal  Piute!  Whar  did  yo'  learn  t'  talk 
United  States?  Am  I  plumb  locoed  er —  Hoi' 
on  thar!" 

And  before  Injun  could  get  upon  the  scene  in 
time  to  introduce  the  two  men  properly,  it  was 
evident  that  they  had  come  to  a  clinch.  John 
Big  Moose,  standing  before  Crowley,  with  his 
hands  raised  above  his  head,  had  taken  advan 
tage  of  Crowley's  astonishment  and  had  leaped 

229 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

at  him,  knocking  up  his  gun  hand,  so  that  as 
Crowley  pulled  the  trigger  of  his  six-shooter,  it 
was  discharged  high  in  the  air.  And  when  Injun 
got  to  the  scene  the  two  big  men  were  engaged 
in  a  rough-and-tumble  that  resembled  somewhat 
the  battle  of  the  grizzlies. 

Had  Crowley  been  in  perfect  condition  there 
would  have  been  little  to  choose  between  them; 
but  weakened  as  he  was  by  the  sprained  ankle 
and  by  his  long  fast,  he  was  no  match  for  John 
Big  Moose,  and  he  was  getting  a  mauling  that 
must  eventually  make  him  succumb.  John,  too, 
had  succeeded  in  getting  out  his  hunting-knife, 
and  though  Crowley  had  seized  his  wrist  and  was 
holding  off  the  blow  that  impended,  it  was  plain 
to  Injun  that  Crowley's  strength  was  ebbing, 
and  that  the  knife  must  inevitably  end  the  strug 
gle.  And  it  was  a  most  fortunate  thing  for  Jim 
Crowley  that  the  boy  was  at  hand. 

For  a  second  or  two  Injun  watched  the  strug 
gle,  fascinated.  Within  him  there  was  a  mo 
mentary  flash  of  that  hatred  of  the  white  race 
and  love  of  his  own  that  prompted  him  to  come 
to  the  aid  of  his  own  blood  and  the  annihilation 

230 


THE  REWARD  OF  BRAVERY 

of  the  white.  But  instantly  he  put  this  away,  and 
springing  to  the  men,  he  also  seized  the  wrist  of 
John  Big  Moose  and  pulled  it  away  when  the 
keen  knife  was  at  the  throat  of  Crowley. 

"Him  good  man!"  he  shouted  to  John;  and 
then,  in  the  speech  of  the  Dakotas,  he  hastily 
told  that  this  was  the  man  whom  he  and  Whitey 
had  released  from  the  Crows,  and  who  had  saved 
Whitey's  life  at  the  Cross  and  Circle. 

John  Big  Moose  relaxed  his  hold,  and  Crow- 
ley  got  to  his  feet  with  difficulty. 

"Kid,"  said  he,  looking  at  Injun,  "thet's  th' 
second  time  to-day  yo'  done  me  a  good  turn! 
Tears  t'  me  I'm  some  in  yo'r  debt!  I  reckon  'f 
'twasn't  fer  yo',  this  here  walkin'  grammar'd  'a' 
croaked  me  proper." 

"'This  here  walkin'  grammar'  will  do  it  yet  if 
you  don't  use  a  little  more  care  in  your  speech!" 
said  John  Big  Moose,  in  a  tone  that  indicated  he 
would  do  what  he  said. 

"I  reck'n  yo'  would,  at  that,"  said  Crowley, 
grimly.  "But  not  ef  yo'r  high-falutin'  talk 
hadn't  jest  about  paralyzed  my  think-box  an' 
made  my  gun  hand  slow.  Seein'  as  yo're  some 

231 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

partic'ler  'bout  how  yo're  t'  be  addressed, 
whut's  yo'r  handle  so's  I  won't  be  rilin'  yo'r 
majesty  none?" 

"Never  mind  my  name!"  said  John,  with 
some  heat,  and  an  ugly  look  on  his  face;  "I'll 
take  good  care  that  you  don't '  rile '  me  by  tying 
your  hands  and  putting  a  gag  in  that  uncivil 
mouth  of  yours,"  and  he  started  to  put  his 
threat  in  execution. 

"Him  good  man!"  said  Injun,  by  way  of  pro 
test.  "Him  friend." 

"He  doesn't  act  much  like  a  friend  to  me!" 
said  John;  but  he  stopped  in  his  preparations  for 
binding  and  gagging  Crowley,  and  looked  at  the 
man  appraisingly. 

Crowley  grinned.  "Chief,"  he  said,  "er  Rain- 
in-the-Face,  er  Settin'  Bull,  er  Standin'  Cow,  er 
whatever  th'  handle  yo'  claims  to  be  yo'r'n  is, 
I'm  gittin'  sick  o'  bein'  rescued  by  this  here  kid. 
Yo'  kin  go  as  fur  as  yo'  like  with  thet  bindin'  an' 
gaggin'  thing,  er  anythin'  else  yo'  sees  fit  t'  do! 
Yo'  got  th'  aige  on  me,  an'  I  ain't  puttin'  up  no 
holler  an'  I  ain't  askin'  fer  no  favors  —  not  off'n 
no  grammertistical  Piute,  I  ain't  —  thankin'  th' 

232 


THE  REWARD  OF  BRAVERY 

kid  jes'  th'  same  — •  him  havin'  good  intentions." 

"Him  no  Piute,"  said  Injun.  "Him  Dakota 
—  him  name  John  Big  Moose.  Him  friend,  too! " 

"I'm  'bliged  t'  meet  yuh,  Mr.  Moose,"  said 
Crowley,  "only  I  ain't  none  too  stuck  on  th' 
circumstances  o'  th'  interduction.  'F  yo're  a 
friend  o'  this  here  kid  an'  thet  pal  o'  his'n,  mebbe 
yo're  better  'n  yo'  look  to  me.  An'  ef  so  be, 
mebbe  I  spoke  some  hasty  an'  out'n  my  turn, 
an'  I  withdraws  them  remarks  —  not  lookin'  fer 
no  favors,  er  nuthin'  like  thet,  but  on  account  o' 
yo'r  bein'  a  friend  o'  the  kids.  Which  I'm  proud 
t'  say  I  am,  myself.  My  name's  Crowley." 

"I'm  glad  to  meet  you,  too,  Mr.  Crowley," 
said  John,  with  a  faint  smile.  "But  I  rather 
think  we've  met  before.  Aren't  you  the  gentle 
man  that  took  a  few  pot-shots  at  us  when  we 
came  to  the  mine  without  waiting  to  see  what 
we  wanted — -whether  we  were  friendly  or  not?" 

"I  reck'n  a  gent  has  got  a  right  t'  defend  his 
own  prop — "  Crowley  began,  but  Injun  inter 
rupted  by  saying  that  they  had  started  out  to 
find  Whitey  and  were  delaying  the  main  business 
in  hand.  As  soon  as  Crowley  understood  the 

233 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

situation  he  immediately  put  aside  everything 
personal  and  offered  to  join  in  the  search. 

"Any  little  matters  thet  me  an'  yo'  has  to  set 
tle,  Mr.  Moose,  I  reck'n  kin  wait  a  spell  till  we 
find  this  here  kid,"  said  Crowley.  "Not  as  I'm 
much  afraid  harm'll  come  t'  him,  havin'  saw 
him  perform  before.  But  mebbe  'f  yo'  values 
them  braves  thet  yo'  is  chief  of,  yo'  better  see 
to  it  thet  this  here  ragin'  catamount  don't  git 
hooked  up  with  'em!  He's  liable  t'  treat  'em 
rough !  'Tain't  safe  fer  him  t'  be  at  large! " 

John  Big  Moose  was  a  good  judge  of  men,  and 
he  could  not  doubt  the  evident  sincerity  of  the 
man;  and  as  John  was  now  indisputably  in  con 
trol  of  the  situation,  he  could  afford  to  be  gener 
ous.  And  so  Crowley  was  added  to  their  division 
of  the  searching  party;  and  they  lost  no  time  in 
pursuing  the  trail  which  led  straight  to  the  ledge 
upon  which  Whitey  had  won  his  freedom  but  a 
short  time  before. 


CHAPTER  XXI 
THE  RESCUE  PARTY 

ON  the  second  day  following  their  departure 
from  the  ranch,  Bill  Jordan  and  his  party  came 
upon  the  little  clump  of  woods  where  Injun  and 
Whitey  had  camped  on  their  arrival,  and  from 
which  they  had  started  to  trail  the  passing  band 
of  Crows  toward  the  mine.  A  whinny  from 
Whitey 's  horse,  Monty,  attracted  their  attention, 
although  the  men  would  undoubtedly  have  gone 
into  the  clump  had  the  horse  not  whinnied. 

"Here's  their  hosses!"  shouted  Walker,  in  a 
relieved  way,  he  being  in  the  lead.  "But  where 
in  Sam  Hill  are  the  kids  ? " 

Jordan  and  the  rest  dismounted  and  examined 
the  place,  and  could  readily  see  that  the  camp 
had  been  recently  occupied.  But  where  were  the 
boys? 

"They  cain't  be  fur  off,"  said  Higgins.  "It 
don't  seem  reasonable  't  they'd  go  'way  an'  leave 
all  this  here  truck  an'  them  hosses  fer  long." 

"I  dunno,"  said  Jordan,  meditatively.  "By 
235 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

th'  looks  o'  things  they  ain't  bin  here  sence  yes- 
tiddy,  er  mebbe  longer  'n  thet.  I  dunno's  I  jes' 
like  th'  looks  of  it." 

"Yo'  said  it,  Bill!"  agreed  Walker.  "The'  's 
somethin'  keepin'  'em.  Them  boys  wouldn't  go 
'way  an'  stay  like  they've  done  'less  the'  's  some- 
thin'  doin'!" 

"Yo'  all  is  a  lot  o'  ol'  wimmen!"  scoffed  Hig- 
gins.  "What  kin  be  doin'?" 

"I  thought  yo'  said,  Buck,  thet  yo'  was  ac 
quainted  with  them  two?"  said  Jordan,  pity 
ingly.  "Ef  you  was,  yo'  wouldn't  never  ask  no 
fool  question  like  thet!  'What  kin  be  doin'!' 
With  them  two?  Jes'  adzackly  nine  thousand 
different  things !  It  are  up  t'  us  t'  find  out  which 
pertic'ler  one  o'  th'  nine  thousand  it  is!" 

"Wai,"  said  Bassett,  "'tain't  gittin'  us  nuthin' 
standin'  here  an'  guessin'  er  waitin'  fer  'em  t' 
come  back.  I  don't  know  but  mebbe  one  of  us 
better  stay  here,  tho';  ef  they  should  come  an'  we 
missed  'em  on  th'  way,  we'd  put  in  a  lot  o'  time 
fer  nuthin'." 

"All  right,"  said  Walker,  "then  you  stay." 

"Who?     Me?"    said    Bassett,    indignantly. 
236 


THE  RESCUE  PARTY 


"Where  do  you  git  thet  stuff?  I'm  a-goin'!  We 
kin  leave  a  note  here,  givin'  our  address  an'  say- 
in'  we'll  call  ag'in  er  somethin*.  I'm  too  young 
t'  be  left  here  alone,  anyhow!  'F  somebuddy's 
gotta  stay,  let  Bill  do  it  —  er  Buck  —  er  you." 

It  was  perfectly  evident  that  nobody  wanted 
to  be  assigned  to  "fixed-post"  duty,  and  so  Bill 
wrote  a  note  which  he  affixed  to  one  of  the  sad 
dles,  'telling  that  the  relief  expedition  had  ar 
rived,  and  that  the  boys  were  to  wait  until  it 
returned  to  the  camp.  This  done,  they  set  out  up 
the  mountain  on  their  horses,  being  unwilling 
to  leave  them  with  the  others  at  the  camp,  al 
though  they  might  have  made  more  speed  on 
foot. 

Halfway  up,  the  men  saw  the  effects  of  the 
forest  fire,  and  Jordan's  face  looked  longer  than 
ever.  They  realized  that  the  situation  might  in 
deed  be  serious,  although  the  fact  that  the  boys 
had  been  in  camp  but  a  day  before  proved  con 
clusively  that  they  had  escaped  the  fire  which 
had  burned  weeks  before.  Many  things  might 
happen  in  the  wake  of  a  forest  fire  that  would 
be  unpleasant.  But  it  offered  one  advantage;  it 

237 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

was  scarcely  likely  that  the  boys  would  have 
gone  into  the  burned  district,  and  thus  the 
scope  of  their  search  was  shortened.  They  must 
be  on  the  eastern  slope  and  toward  the  north. 
And  in  that  direction  they  rode,  gradually  de 
scending  the  ridge  until  they  took  nearly  the 
same  trail  that  the  boys  and  the  Crows  had  fol 
lowed,  but  spread  out  in  such  a  manner  that 
they  covered  almost  all  possible  avenues  of  travel. 

At  various  points  they  came  upon  the  evi 
dences  of  recent  travel,  although  there  could  be 
no  doubt  that  there  had  been  horses  in  the  party 
that  had  made  it.  As  the  boys'  horses  were  at 
the  camp,  it  was  unlikely  that  the  boys  would 
have  been  of  this  party  unless  they  had  been 
taken  into  it  against  their  will.  At  intervals  they 
fired  their  guns  in  the  air  and  hallooed;  but  got 
no  answering  call. 

The  farther  they  went,  the  more  puzzling  the 
situation  became;  and  to  complicate  matters  fur 
ther,  on  two  occasions  they  had  seen  one  or  more 
Indians.  But  all  attempts  to  get  near  them 
failed.  They  were  members  of  the  unlucky 
Crows  and  they  were  anxious  to  get  home  as  soon 

238 


TOE  RESCUE  PARTY 


as  possible.  Walker  and  Bassett  gave  chase  to 
the  fleeing  red  men,  but  came  back  without  being 
able  to  get  into  touch.  The  fact  that  there  was 
a  rumpus  on  among  the  two  tribes  did  not  serve 
to  relieve  Jordan's  apprehensions. 

It  would  be  idle  to  follow  in  detail  the  course  of 
the  rescue  party.  Suffice  it  that,  after  some  hours 
of  riding,  they  came  around  under  the  base  of  a 
sheer,  fifty-foot  cliff,  and  there  before  them  upon 
the  rocks  lay  the  body  of  Pedro ! 

"Well,  what  do  you  know  about  this!"  ex 
claimed  Walker,  who  got  to  him  first,  and,  in 
spite  of  the  bruised  features  of  the  man,  recog 
nized  him.  "Thet  skunk  is  gone  to  his  reward! 
'F  them  boys  never  done  nuthin'  else,  they 
oughta  git  a  medal  fer  this ! " 

The  men  gathered  around  the  body  and  made 
certain  the  identification. 

Walker  could  not  restrain  his  delight  at  find 
ing  the  man:  "Of  all  th'  low-down  houn's  an' 


no-account — " 


"Ssssh!"  said  Bill,  reprovingly.  "Tain't  fer 
yo'  t'  set  up  t'  jedge  no  man  after  he's  done 
cashed  in!  Whut's  interestin'  me  is,  how  come 

239 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

all  this  here?    'Pears   like  thet  bird   done  fell 
ofT'n  th'  clift." 

"He  never  got  thet  face  fallin'  off'n  no  clift," 
said  Bassett.  "He  was  done  beat-up  'fore  he  did 
th'  fallin'.  I  never  seen  no  guy  look  like  thet 
'thout  he  got  a  hand-made  lickin'.  Now,"  con 
tinued  Bassett,  oracularly,  "who  done  it? 
Them  Injuns  ain't  none  gifted  at  boxin'  — •  th' 
manly  art  o'  mussin'  up  a  guy  like  thet  ain't 
learnt  in  their  schools  — •  'less'n  'tis  at  Carlisle. 
Th'  person  that  scrambled  this  gent's  features 
like  you  see  were  nobuddy  but  Whitey!" 

"  Whut  makes  yo'  think  a  kid  like  Whitey  c'd 
put  it  all  over  a  growed  man  like  this  here  Pe 
dro?  "  asked  Buck  Higgins. 

"My  reasons  consist  o'  several  o'  them  same 
kind  o'  bumps  thet  he  plastered  onto  me  th'  las' 
time  me  an'  him  put  on  th'  gloves,"  said  Bassett. 
"  I  don't  reck'n  this  here  Pedro  would  be  more'n 
a  mouthful  fer  me,  an'  I'll  say  thet  kid  made 
me  step  some!  He's  scienced,  an'  quicker'n  a  cat, 
an'  he  packs  a  consider'ble  wallop  in  each  hand. 
Looks  like  him  an'  Pedro  come  together  up 
onto  thet  ledge,  an'  th'  kid  knocked  him  off." 

240 


THE  RESCUE  PARTY 


"He's  took  th'  count,  all  right,"  said  Walker, 
with  intense  satisfaction  in  his  tone.  "I  reck'n 
th'  referee  —  'f  th'  was  one  —  could  count  mebbe 
sever'l  million  over  him  'thout  his  gittin'  up! 
Th'  other  guy  gits  th'  decision  —  whoever  he 
was.  He  wins  th'  cards,  chips,  money,  an'  th' 
watch!  An'  I  reck'n  yo'  said  somethin'  when  yo* 
'lowed  as  how  Whitey  done  it." 

"Whoever  did  it,  it's  did,"  said  Jordan. 
"Let's  go  up  t'  th'  ledge  an"  see  whut  we  kin 
find." 

As  they  were  about  to  start,  an  Indian,  dazed 
and  bewildered,  staggered  unsteadily  to  his  feet 
and  looked  blankly  at  them.  Only  a  glance  was 
necessary  to  convince  any  one  that  his  counte 
nance  was  also  somewhat  disarranged. 

The  men  grabbed  him  before  he  had  a  chance 
to  take  a  step. 

"Sufferin'  Corbett!"  said  Bassett.  "This  here 
must  'a'  bin  a  battle-royal!  Ain't  thet  kid  a 
cuckoo?  I'd  'a'  giv'  a  year's  pay  t'  seen — " 
But  further  observations  upon  Whitey's  prowess 
were  cut  short  by  the  questioning  that  Jordan 
was  giving  the  soreheaded  Indian. 

241 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

"How  come?"  asked  Jordan,  shaking  the 
Indian  violently  to  get  his  scattered  wits  to 
gether.  "Who  knocked  yo'  down  th'  clift?" 

"Him  boy,"  said  the  Indian,  feeling  of  his 
head. 

"What  did  I  tell  yo'  all!"  yelled  Bassett. 
"Didn't  I  tell  yo'  'twa'n't  nobuddy  but  Whitey? 
Ain't  he  a  lulu?" 

"Whar's  th'  boy  now?"  asked  Jordan,  shaking 
the  Indian  again. 

"Dunno,"  said  the  Indian,  stupidly,  and  evi 
dently  not  caring  a  great  deal  about  anything 
except  the  pain  in  his  head. 

"Wai,  yo'  better  know!"  said  Jordan.  "Jes' 
come  along  with  us,  an'  we'll  try  t'  refresh  yo'r 
mem'ry  a  little  'bout  how  come  all  this." 

With  the  Indian  in  custody  Jordan  and  the 
other  men  made  their  way  to  the  ledge  where  the 
struggle  between  Whitey  and  Pedro  had  taken 
place,  but  beyond  the  discovery  of  the  cave  in 
which  they  had  been  hidden,  little  or  nothing 
could  be  learned  from  the  visit.  The  Indian  was 
sharply  questioned  again,  and  the  information 
was  extracted  from  him  about  Whitey's  capture 

242 


THE  RESCUE  PARTY 


and  the  mission  upon  which  Injun  had  been  sent; 
but  as  to  the  result  of  the  mission  the  Indian 
could,  of  course,  shed  no  light.  He  was  rapidly 
recovering  his  wits,  but  the  blow  that  Whitey 
had  given  him  with  the  stone  had  been  a  severe 
one,  and  he  had  been  unconscious  for  more  than 
an  hour.  It  was  miraculous  that  he  had  not  been 
killed  by  the  fall,  although  it  was  perhaps  due  to 
his  limp  condition  that  he  had  not  been  more 
seriously  injured.  The  fall  had  not  been  a  sheer 
one,  for  the  cliff  was  not  quite  perpendicular; 
and  he  had  crumpled  and  collapsed  and  then 
rolled  and  bounded  and  slid  a  good  portion  of 
the  way;  and  had  brought  up  in  a  clear  space. 
On  the  other  hand,  Pedro,  who  was  not  seriously 
injured  when  he  went  over  the  edge,  had 
plunged  out  farther  than  the  Indian  from  the 
force  of  his  rush  at  Whitey,  and  he  had  made 
almost  a  straight  fall.  In  addition  to  this,  he 
had,  on  landing,  crashed  against  a  boulder,  with 
fatal  results. 

When  it  was  obvious  that  nothing  of  advan 
tage  could  be  obtained  from  the  Indian  by  fur 
ther  questioning,  he  was  made  to  understand 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

that  his  fate  would  depend  entirely  upon  whether 
Whitey  was  found  and  found  quickly;  and  he 
was  ordered  to  conduct  the  party  to  the  place 
from  which  he  had  started  with  the  boy.  And  in 
that  direction  under  the  Indian's  guidance  the 
party  set  out. 

They  had  proceeded  but  a  short  distance 
when  Walker  sighted  the  other  searching  party 
—  Injun,  John  Big  Moose,  and  Crowley  — 
although  the  distance  and  the  thickness  of  the 
trees  made  it  impossible  to  identify  any  of 
them. 

"Look  ahead,  Bill!"  exclaimed  Walker.  "Here 
come  somebuddy — looks  like  a  white  man  and 
a  couple  o'  Injuns,  but  the'  may  be  more  of  'em. 
Better  cover  up  till  we  find  out." 

Each  one  of  the  party  ducked  behind  the 
nearest  rock  or  tree,  Jordan  dragging  the  Indian 
with  him;  but  it  was  only  a  few  seconds  after  that 
Jordan  set  up  a  yell  and  dashed  out  toward  the 
oncoming  party. 

"It's  Injun! "  shouted  Jordan.  "I'd  'a'  known 
him  a  mile  'f  I'd  got  a  good  look  at  'im  'fore  I 
ducked!" 

244 


THE  RESCUE  PARTY 


"Yes,  an'  'f  I  got  my  eyesight,  there's  thet  big 
hombrey  Bill  let  go  over  t'  th'  Cross  an'  Circle!" 
said  Walker  to  Bassett  and  Higgins,  as  they  fol 
lowed.  "We  might  'a'  known  he'd  be  mixed  up 
inta  this  when  we  come  acrost  Pedro!  Them  bad 
eggs  has  a  way  o'  flockin'  together,  as  th'  Good 
Book  says  —  'cordin'  to  Jordan." 

"  Will  yo'  look  at  th'  size  o'  thet  red-bird  thet's 
trailin'  'long  with  'em?"  said  Buck  Higgins,  in 
dicating  John  Big  Moose.  "He's  'bout  four  sizes 
an'  a  half  bigger  'n  Bill !  An'  Bill  ain't  no  dwarft ! " 

"Yes,  an'  I  got  his  number,  too ! "  said  Walker. 
"'F  I  ain't  mistook,  thet  there's  John  Big 
Moose.  He's  full  o'  eddication  an'  uplift  an* 
welfare  an'  such.  He's  a  Dakota  thet  they  tried 
t'  civ'lize  —  sent  'im  East  t'  college  an'  all  thet. 
I  hear  he's  a  bear  when  it  comes  t'  literachoor  an' 
football  an'  them  other  college  sports.  Comes 
home  on  vacations  an'  sets  in  th'  game  with  his 
tribe,  him  not  bein'  entirely  house-broke  yet. 
I  heard  it  said  't  he  kin  follow  suit  in  'most  any 
kind  o'  languages  —  foreign  er  domestic  an' 
them  they  quit  usin'.  'Cordin' t'  reports  he  are 
a  pippin!" 

245 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

"He  looks  it ! "  said  Bassett,  as  they  neared  the 
group  which  Bill  had  already  joined. 

If  Bill  and  the  ranchmen  were  glad  to  see  In 
jun,  it  is  safe  to  say  that  Injun  was  equally  glad 
to  see  them;  and  the  greetings  exchanged  be 
tween  these  usually  undemonstrative  people  were 
more  than  cordial.  The  one  fly  in  the  ointment 
was,  of  course,  the  absence  of  Whitey.  Piece  by 
piece' — from  Injun,  Crowley,  and  John  Big 
Moose  —  Bill  gathered  the  story  and  put  the 
various  parts  together.  How  Whitey  tried  to 
settle  the  fight  between  the  Dakotas  and  the 
Crows,  his  unsuccessful  mission,  the  finding  and 
liberating  of  Crowley,  the  fight  of  the  bears,  their 
capture  by  the  Crows,  and  the  mysterious  dis 
appearance  of  the  boy  while  Injun  was  sent  on 
the  mission  to  John  Big  Moose.  The  captured 
Indian  whom  Whitey  had  bowled  over  the  cliff 
had  filled  the  gap  up  to  the  time  that  the  rock 
had  hit  him,  but  from  that  time  on  there  was 
nothing  known,  and  the  present  whereabouts 
of  the  boy  and  what  had  taken  place  after  he 
had  left  the  ledge  were  matters  of  guesswork 
only. 

246 


THE  RESCUE  PARTY 


Night  was  beginning  to  settle  down,  and  it 
was  obviously  unwise  to  spend  much  time  in 
surmising. 

"Th'  thing  to  do,"  said  Bill,  "is  to  look  fer 
'im.  Don't  seem  like  he  kin  be  very  far  off, 
seein'  as  Mr.  Moose,  here,  says  'tain't  more  'n  a 
hour  sence  him  an'  his  band  done  run  th'  Crows 
out'n  th'  woods.  Th'  fact  thet  he  don't  answer 
t'  no  shootin'  an'  hallooin'  makes  me  think 
mebbe  somethin's  happened  to  'im." 

"  It  isn't  strange  that  he  doesn't  respond  to 
shots  that  are  fired,"  said  John  Big  Moose,  "for 
there  was  a  good  deal  of  that  sort  of  thing  going 
on  all  day,  and  he  may  think  —  provided  he 
heard  them — that  the  fight  is  still  on.  And  he 
may  be  out  of  earshot  of  the  shouts." 

"Can  y'  beat  it!"  whispered  Walker  toBas- 
sett,  nudging  him  violently.  "Didn't  I  tell  yo* 
thet  this  bird  was  ther  with  the  Webster?" 

"Yo'  done  said  it!"  agreed  Bassett. 

"There  are  some  eight  or  ten  of  my  men  search 
ing  for  him  now,"  continued  John,  "and  I  would 
make  the  suggestion  that  we  spread  out  in  par 
ties  of  two.  As  soon  as  the  boy  is  found  return 

247 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

to  the  mine  with  him,  as  that  is  the  most  avail 
able  meeting-place." 

"I  pass!"  said  Bassett,  helplessly,  in  a  low 
tone  to  Walker  and  Buck  Higgins.  "He's  got 
me  faded!" 

"Speakin'  o*  cuss-words,"  put  in  Walker, 
"thet  guy  could  cuss  a  man  out  proper  'thout 
him  knowin'  whut  was  comin'  off." 

The  searchers  were  soon  divided  into  parties 
of  two,  one  of  each  pair  being  familiar  with  the 
location  of  the  mine,  and  it  fell  to  the  lot  of 
Crowley  to  accompany  Bill  Jordan.  As  they 
strode  through  the  brush  and  trees,  taking  a 
northerly  and  uphill  direction,  and  examining 
every  foot  of  the  ground,  Bill  asked,  "What  'bout 
this  here  mine  thet  this  Moose  person  is  men- 
tionin'  frequent?  I  didn't  quite  git  specifica 
tions  of  'er." 

"'Cordin'  t'  my  lights,"  said  Crowley,  "I'm 
th'  sole  an'  lawful  owner  an'  properieter  of  'er. 
When  I  run  acrost  'er,  she  were  abandoned  — 
hadn't  bin  no  work  did  on  'er  in  a  consider'ble 
spell.  I  gits  busy  an'  I  washes  out  some  coupla 
hunderd  bucks'  wo'th  o'  color  in  two  days. 

248 


THE  RESCUE  PARTY 


Then  'long  comes  this  here  grammertistical 
Piute,  sheddin'  parts  o'  speech  all  over  th'  place, 
an'  'bout  fifteen  more  o'  his  kind  aidin'  an' 
abettin'  him,  an'  starts  t'  jump  th'  claim.  I  jes' 
nacher'ly  plugs  a  couple  of  'em,  but  they  was 
too  strong  fer  me,  an'  I  beat  it,  leavin'  some  o' 
my  hide  an'  a  few  drops  o'  my  blood  onto  th' 
prop'ty." 

"Humph!"  mused  Jordan.  "Tain't  like  a 
Injun  t'  jump  claims." 

"They  shore  jumped  this  'un,  all  right,"  said 
Crowley,  grimly.  "An'  I  bein'  somehetup  goes 
an'  gets  a  bunch  o'  them  Crows,  they  calls 
'emselves,  but  I  reck'n  they's  all  Piutes,  an'  I 
manages  t'  secure  'bout  ten  gallon  o'  booze  — 
reel  oP  third  rail,  fightin'  whiskey  —  an'  I  en 
lists  7em  under  my  banner,  an'  we  sets  out  t' 
re-take  th'  place  —  me  bein'  some  liberal  with 
promises  an'  whiskey.  'T  seems  like  I  done  got 
in  Dutch  when  I  hands  one  of  'em  a  kick  in  the 
pants,  an'  th'  fust  thing  I  knowed  they  had  me 
roped  t'  a  tree;  an'  I  reck'n  'f  them  boys  hadn't 
come  along,  'bout  as  they  did,  I'd  'a'  bin  th* 
most  principal  thing  at  a  barbecue." 

249 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

"Yo'  bin  havin'  dealin's  with  them  Southern 
Injuns,"  said  Bill.  "These  here  ones  is  more 
high-strung  like.  'Tain't  safe  t'  kick  none  of 
'em.  But  yo'  say  yo'  washed  out  a  coupla 
liunderd  in  two  days  at  this  here  mine?" 

"I  shore  did,"  said  Crowley.  "Mebbe  more." 

"Humph!"  said  Jordan,  after  a  pause.  "That 
there  mine  is  a  matter  thet  mebbe  oughta  be 
investigated.  Seems  like  mebbe  yo'  got  some 
claim." 

i,'  ""I  shore  am  goin'  t'  do  a  little  investigating" 
Bald  Crowley.  "Mebbe  more  'n  thet.  An'  seein' 
as  how  our  fust  pardnership  turned  out  fair  to 
middlin'  —  fur's  th'  money's  concerned,  any 
how  —  I  was  thinkin'  mebbe  I'd  declar'  yo'  in  on 
this  here  deal,  me  bein'  some  in  yo'r  debt  'count 
of  thet  time  at  ol'  man  Ross's  ranch." 

"I  ain't  lookin'  fer  no  comeback  'count  o' 
whut  I  done  thet  time,"  said  Bill,  "but  I  dunno 
but  I  c'd  mebbe  earn  a  little  sal'ry  straightenin' 
out  th'  mess.  'F  yo'  say  so,  I'm  in  on  the  deal  fer 
whut's  fair.  I  bin  wantin'  a  good  gold-mine  fer 
some  time.  I  c'n  use  it!  But  'tain't  goin'  t'  be 
no  cinch  gittin*  shet  o'  this  here  Moose  person. 

250 


THE  RESCUE  PARTY 


He's  got  all  th'  appearances  o'  bein*  some  wise 
fish.  Time  'nuff  t'  talk  when  we  find  th'  kid." 
And  Jordan  pulled  himself  together  as  though  he 
were  violating  his  duty  by  discussing  even  the 
ownership  of  a  gold-mine  when  Whitey  was  still 
unfound. 

The  finding  of  Whitey  proved  no  easy  job.  As 
the  hours  wore  on  and  no  trace  of  him  could  be 
found,  the  searchers  began  to  worry.  All  through 
the  night  they  beat  the  bush  of  the  mountain  for 
many  miles  around,  but  there  was  no  answering 
call  to  their  halloos.  And  toward  morning  the 
varous  parties  came  trooping  in,  singly  and  in 
pairs,  to  the  little  plateau  where  the  mine  was 
situated.  And  the  look  upon  their  long  faces 
made  it  unnecessary  to  ask  any  questions. 

As  they  took  stock  of  their  various  activities,  it 
became  certain  that  there  was  no  foot  of  the  terri 
tory  within  the  distance  that  Whitey  could  have 
gone  that  had  not  been  examined.  Every  possible 
place  where  a  rabbit  could  have  hidden  had  been 
investigated,  and  at  every  point  where  disaster 
or  accident  could  have  overtaken  him  an  exam 
ination  had  been  made. 

251 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

"  I  can't  understand  it,"  said  John  Big  Moose, 
after  a  long  pause,  in  which  no  one  had  spoken, 
"I  will  never  leave  the  spot  until  this  thing  is 
solved.  The  earth  can't  have  opened  and  swal 
lowed  him  up.  Even  if  he  is  dead  there  must  be 
some  trace  of  him,  and  it  is  up  to  us  to  find  it. 
When  it  becomes  light  we  had  better  start  out 
with  a  more  systematic  plan." 

Needless  to  say,  this  expression  of  determina 
tion  and  declaration  of  loyalty  to  Whitey  did  not 
fail  to  impress  the  ranchers  favorably.  "The 
grammertistical  Piute"  wasn't  such  a  bad  fel 
low,  after  all,  and  he  could  have  burst  into  epic 
blank-verse  without  exciting  any  derision  from 
Bassett  or  Walker  or  Buck  Higgins. 

As  the  men  sat  about  the  fire,  with  heads 
dropped  upon  their  breasts,  a  loud  yell  from 
Injun  startled  them  almost  into  fits.  Out  of  the 
tunnel  of  the  mine,  yawning  and  stretching  and 
rubbing  his  eyes,  crawled  Whitey,  and  stood,  for 
a  moment,  gazing  blankly  at  them  in  the  flicker 
ing  firelight. 


CHAPTER  XXII 
WHITEY'S  SURPRISE 

"SUFFERIN'  Rip  Van  Winkles!"  shouted  the  as 
tonished  and  delighted  Bill  Jordan  as  he  recog 
nized  the  boy.  "Here  we  bin  —  'bout  a  dozen  er 
more  able-bodied,  full-growed  men  —  a-skally- 
hootin'  'round  this  here  mount'n  all  night,  an* 
him  layin'  in  a  hole  in  th'  ground  like  a  rabbit  in 
a  burrow,  an'  safer  'n  a  church,  gettin'  a  little 
much-needed  rest!  Come  here,  yo'  r'arin'  cata 
mount,  an'  let's  hev  a  look  at  ye!"  And  the  men 
all  gathered  about  the  boy,  slapping  him  on  the 
back  and  pulling  him  this  way  and  that  in  de 
light. 

It  was  a  second  or  two  before  Whitey  could 
grasp  the  situation ;  but  when  he  had  rubbed  the 
sleep  from  his  eyes  and  the  cobwebs  had  cleared 
from  his  brain,  he  gave  vent  to  a  whoop  of  joy  at 
the  sight  of  his  old  friends,  and  tried  to  answer 
the  multitude  of  questions  that  Bill  and  Bassett 
and  Walker  and  Crowley  and  the  rest  all  asked 
at  once. 

253 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

"Tell  us  whut  yo'  done  t'  Pedro?"  seemed  to 
be  the  most  frequent  and  insistent  of  the  ques 
tions,  a  number  of  the  men  asking  it  at  the  same 
time. 

"Looks  like  yo'  done  op'rated  on  him  with  a 
axe!"  put  in  Bassett. 

Whitey  told  how  he  and  Pedro  had  come  to 
gether  in  the  little  cave,  and  how  the  man,  not 
recognizing  him,  had  unloosed  the  thongs  that 
held  his  hands.  And  how,  with  the  rock  that  he 
had  sat  on  painfully,  he  had  bowled  the  Indian 
over  the  cliff. 

"Here's  th'  Piute  now,"  said  Crowley,  drag 
ging  the  sore-headed  Crow  into  the  circle  about 
Whitey. 

"That's  the  one!"  said  Whitey,  identifying 
him.  "And  while  I'm  glad  I  didn't  kill  him,  yet 
he  had  something  coming  to  him  on  account  of 
the  jabs  he  gave  me  in  the  ribs  with  his  rifle.  I 
can  feel  'em  now !  He  had  his  head  turned,  listen 
ing  to  the  firing,  and  he  just  started  to  look 
around  when  I  stepped  out  of  the  hole  and  let 
him  have  it.  I  was  so  excited  over  getting  him 
that  I  forgot  all  about  Pedro  for  a  second;  and 

254 


WHITEY'S  SURPRISE 


when  I  turned  around,  Pedro  was  just  coming 
out  of  the  cave  himself.  'Good  shot!'  he  said. 
He  didn't  recognize  me,  as  I  had  my  back  turned. 
But  the  next  minute  he  knew  who  I  was,  and  he 
started  for  me."  Whitey  paused,  and  the  men 
waited  for  him  to  go  on,  but  the  boy  evidently 
didn't  intend  to  give  any  very  lengthy  descrip 
tion  of  the  fight. 

Bassett  was  particularly  impatient.  "Go  on, 
kid!"  he  said.  "Tell  us  about  it!" 

"Well,"  said  Whitey,  modestly,  "I  guess  he 
didn't  know  a  great  deal  about  boxing,  for  he 
rushed  at  me,  wide-open,  with  his  eyes  shut,  and 
telling  me  what  he  was  going  to  do  to  me,  but  I 
stood  him  off  with  some  straight  left  jabs.  After 
a  minute  he  saw  that  he  couldn't  get  me  that 
way,  and  he  began  to  crowd  me;  and  so  I  talked 
to  him  to  get  him  mad  so  that  he  would  keep  up 
his  rushing.  Once  I  fooled  him  and  got  him  to 
look  behind  him;  and  when  he  did,  I  knocked  him 
down ;  but  he  was  pretty  tough,  and  I  didn't  get 
a  chance  to  finish  him.  But  when  he  got  up  he 
was  mussed  up  pretty  badly  and  his  face  was  a 
sight!" 

255 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

"You  said  it!"  agreed  Bassett.  "He  looked 
like  he  come  through  a  harvestin'  machine!" 

"You  saw  him,  then?"  asked  Whitey,  inter 
estedly.  "Is  he  dead?  I  took  one  look  over  the 
edge  of  the  cliff  and  he  didn't  look  as  though  he 
would  amount  to  much  afterward,  but  I  didn't 
stop  to  make  sure." 

> ff  "He  ain't  never  goin'  t'  bother  nobuddy,"  said 
Bill,  with  finality.  "Not  in  this  world,  he  ain't! 
He's  consider'ble  dead!  In  fac',  he's  one  o'  th' 
•deadest  men  thet  ever  lived!  An'  yo'  are  de- 
servin'  of  a  medal  fer  killin'  him." 

"I  didn't  kill  him!"  protested  Whitey.  "He 
killed  himself!" 

"Shore!"  put  in  Bassett.  "He  run  up  ag'in  a 
better  man  'n  him!" 

•  "He  ran  up  against  nothing  —  that's  what 
killed  him!"  said  Whitey.  "Whenever  he 
rushed  at  me  he  shut  his  eyes;  and  when  he  made 
his  last  rush  I  was  near  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  and 
I  simply  side-stepped  and  he  went  over  the  edge 
because  he  couldn't  stop  himself!  /  didn't  knock 
him  over!" 

"Oh,  no!"  laughed  Walker.  "You  didn't  hav' 
256 


WHITEY'S  SURPRISE 


nuthin'  t'  do  with  it!  Nuthin'  a-tall.  I  s'pose  yo* 
oughta  stud  thar  an'  kep'  him  from  goin'  over ! 
'F  yo'  didn't  kill  him,  the'  ain't  nobuddy  did! 
They  can't  take  thet  notch  off'n  yo'r  gun,  kid! 
Yo'  git  credit  fer  it,  an'  nobuddy  else!" 

"I  don't  like  to  think  that  I  killed  a  man,"  be 
gan  Whitey.  "I  —  " 

"Who  said  anythin'  'bout  killin'  a  man?" 
asked  Jordan.  "He  wa'n't  no  man!  He  wa'n't 
no  human!  He  hed  bin  cheatin'  th'  rope  sence  he 
war  two  year  old!  He  war  under  sentence  o' 
death,  anyhow,  an'  th'  only  decent  thing  I  ever 
heard  o'  him  doin'  was  committin'  su'cide  onto 
himself  an'  savin'  th'  caounty  th'  trouble  an' 
expense.  He  war  already  dead  'cordin'  t'  law, 
when  yo'  met  up  with  'im."  This  logic,  from  a 
man  like  Jordan,  served  to  make  Whitey  more 
comfortable.  "Th'  only  thing,  I  s'pose,  is,  we 
gotta  go  back  ^thar  an'  bury  'im  —  which  same 
I'm  mighty  glad  t'  do!"  Jordan  continued. 

"  /  ain't ! "  said  Walker.  "  Fur's  I'm  concerned, 
th'  buzzards  kin  'tend  t'  him.  An'  I  wouldn't  be 
s'prised  'f  they  let  'im  alone  —  them  birds  bein* 
some  cagey  'bout  gittin'  pizened!" 

257 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

"Wai,  I  dunno,"  said  Jordan;  "I'd  feel  a  heap 
safer  'bout  him  'f  I  seen  him  buried  'bout  fifty 
feet  deep  an'  a  coupla  ton  o'  rock  piled  onto  him ; 
an'  I'd  like  t'  'tend  to  it  personal,  so's  I  know  it 
was  did  right!" 

"On  them  grounds,"  said  Walker,  "I  con 
sents!  Only  I  reck'n  I'd  sink  'im  a  good  deal 
deeper  'n  whut  yo'  said.  An'  I  reck'n  the'  won't 
be  no  flowers ! " 

"Well,  considering  the  character  of  the  gentle 
man,  I  will  be  glad  to  furnish  pick  and  shovel," 
said  John  Big  Moose.  "  It  is  not  fair  to  the  buz 
zards  to  let  him  stay  where  he  is ! " 

"Well,  whut  come  off,  then,  Whitey?"  asked 
Jordan.  "  Yo'  ain't  told  whar  yo'  went  an'  whut 
yo'  done  while  we  was  fine-combin'  'bout  twenty 
square  mile  o'  wilderness  a-lookin'  fer  yo'. " 

"Well,"  said  Whitey,  "I  didn't  want  to  go 
back  the  way  the  two  Indians  brought  me,  for  I 
could  hear  the  firing,  every  now  and  then,  and 
I  didn't  know  how  things  were  turning  out.  So 
I  beat  it  around  on  the  north  side  of  the  moun 
tain,  and  came  straight  to  the  mine  here.  I  knew 
that  Mr.  Big  Moose  was  my  friend,  and  I  sneaked 

258 


WHITEY'S  SURPRISE 


into  the  tunnel  —  there  was  nobody  about  that 
I  could  see  —  and  I  suppose  I  went  to  sleep 
while  I  was  watching.  I  hadn't  been  to  sleep 
since  day  before  yesterday,  and  I  was  dog-tired 
—  Injun  and  I  had  been  through  quite  a  lot,  in 
that  time — and  the  next  thing  I  knew  I  crawled 
out  here  and  found  you." 

"Wai,  I'm  dog-gonned!"  said  Jordan,  rising 
and  stretching.  "Th'  nex'  time  I  go  out  onto  a 
rescuin'  expedition  fer  yo'  two  kids,  I  hope  some- 
buddy'll  give  me  a  good  call-down  'fore  I  start, 
an'  try  t'  beat  some  sense  inta  my  head  with  a 
club!  I  might  'a'  knowed  how  things'd  be,"  he 
said  to  the  other  men,  "  an'  should  'a'  jes'  set  pat 
an'  waited  fer  them  two  t'  turn  up.  Them  two 
don't  need  no  rescuin'  whutsumever,  bein'  en 
tirely  cap'ble  o'  rescuin'  themselves ! " 

"'S  long's  yo're  into  th'  rescuin'  business," 
said  Crowley,  "mebbe  I  c'd  use  a  little  of  it. 
Whut  about  rescuin'  my  mine  from  th'  grasp  o' 
this  here  seven  foot  o'  eddicated  Piute  that  has 
jumped  it?  Now  't  I  reconsider,"  said  Crowley, 
hastily,  as  John  Big  Moose  Jboked  at  him  a  little 
belligerently,  "I  withdraws  th'  word  'Piute,'  but 

259 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

I  won't  take  back  th' ' eddicated '  ner  th'  'seven- 
foot'  part  of  it!  An'  when  I  says  'rescuin','  I 
don't  mean  by  no  vi'lence  an'  carnage  —  I  mean, 
s'posin'  Mr.  Moose  an'  me  spreads  our  cards 
onto  th'  table  an'  come  to  a  show-down,  peace 
able?" 

"  I  am  willing  to  submit  my  title  to  the  mine 
—  or  rather,  the  tribe's  title,  as  I  don't  own  the 
mine  individually  —  to  any  fair-minded  body  of 
men  for  adjustment,"  said  John.  "And  while 
I,  personally,  believe  you  gentlemen  to  be  fair- 
minded,  I  am  not  willing  to  say,  in  advance,  that 
I  am  going  to  abide  by  your  decision  and  sur 
render  the  mine  if  you  decide  against  me.  I  think 
Mr.  Jordan  here  will  admit  that  the  Indian  has 
not  always  been  accorded  justice  at  the  hands  of 
white  men." 

"Wai,  what  do  y'  know  'bout  this  here  orator 
ical  galoot!"  whispered  Bassett,  gasping. 

"Didn't  I  tell  yo'  thet  th'  perfess,  here,  hed 
'em  all  tied  to  a  post?"  chuckled  Walker. 

"I'll  say  he's  some  gifted  at  shootin'  off  his 
mouth!"  agreed  Buck  Higgins,  as  soon  as  he 
could  get  his  breath  after  John's  speech. 

260 


WHITEY'S  SURPRISE 


"Wai,"  said  Jordan,  slowly,  in  answer  to  John 
Big  Moose,  "  I  dunno's  I  c'n  say  thet  th'  Injuns 
got  none  th'  best  of  it  —  not  reg'lar,  anyhow, 
they  didn't.  But  mebbe,  as  Crowley  says,  it 
might  be  a  good  plan  t'  show  both  hands  'fore 
anybuddy  reaches  fer  th'  pot.  How  come  yo'  all 
t'  git  title  to  her,  Mr.  Moose?  To  a  man  up  a 
tree  it  looks  like  yo'  all  done  jumped  her  when 
Crowley  was  workin'  her." 

"No,"  said  John.  "Crowley  was  the  one  who 
started  the  shooting,  not  waiting  to  find  out  our 
errand,  which  was  perfectly  peaceable." 

"Wai,"  said  Crowley,  in  defense  of  his  action, 
"'f  a  man  who's  workin'  a  gold-mine  sees  a 
passel  o'  Injuns  sneakin'  'round  through  the 
trees,  mebbe  it's  jest  as  well  t'  open  up  pro- 
ceedin's  t'  onct.  I  admit  thet  mebbe  I  war  some 
hasty,  not  bein'  acquainted  with  th'  perfesser 
here." 

"Possibly,  then,"  said  John,  "your  admission 
acquits  us  of  the  charge  of  claim-jumping.  Now, 
in  regard  to  the  title  —  some  weeks  ago  a  man 
by  the  name  of  Babcock  staggered  into  our  vil 
lage,  hopelessly  ill  of  a  fever.  We  took  care  of 

261 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

him  and  nursed  him;  but  despite  all  we  could  do 
—  and  it  was  a  good  deal  —  the  man  died.  Be 
fore  his  death  he  called  me  in  and  gave  me  a 
detailed  description  of  a  mine  —  a  gold-mine  — 
that  he  had  discovered  and  upon  which  he  had 
done  at  least  the  amount  of  work  that  the  law 
requires  to  establish  a  claim,  although  he  had 
never  filed  one  officially.  There  is  no  doubt 
about  this  being  the  mine.  In  return  for  our 
kindness,  and  knowing  that  he  was  about  to  die, 
he  deeded  the  mine  over  to  the  tribe,  and  here  is 
the  writing  that  he  gave,"  and  John  drew  out  a 
much  crumpled  paper,  which,  in  a  few  words, 
and  with  a  brief  description  of  the  property,  con 
veyed  the  mine  to  the  tribe.  The  paper  was 
signed  in  a  very  shaky  hand,  "Luther  Babcock." 

Jordan  did  not  look  at  the  paper,  but  sat 
thinking  very  hard.  Crowley,  on  the  contrary, 
examined  the  paper  carefully  and  scratched  his 
head,  but  seemed  to  be  at  a  loss  to  think  of  any 
thing  to  say  to  offset  the  will. 

"Looks  like  I'm  mebbe  euchred,"  he  said, 
finally.  "  'Pears  like  th'  perfesser  holds  th'  right, 
left,  an' joker!" 

262 


WHITEY'S  SURPRISE 


John  Big  Moose  pursued  his  advantage: 
"While  I  don't  say  that  all  the  laws  relating  to 
such  matters  —  the  laws  regarding  bequests  by 
will,  or  the  laws  regarding  the  filing  of  notice 
of  claim  —  have  been  strictly  followed,  yet  I  do 
say  that  this  document  gives  us  a  better  title 
than  the  one  under  which  Mr.  Crowley  claims. 
What  do  you  think  about  it,  Mr.  Jordan?" 

All  eyes  were  turned  toward  Bill,  but  he  sat 
for  a  moment  in  silence. 

"What  did  you  say  the  man's  name  was?"  he 
asked,  at  length,  of  John  Big  Moose. 

"Luther  Babcock,"  answered  John,  handing 
the  paper  to  Bill. 

"Was  he  a  squat,  oldish  man,"  asked  Jordan, 
"mebbe  into  th'  sixties  —  'thout  no  teeth  t* 
speak  of  —  'cept  a  coupla  snags,  an'  some  gifted 
as  regards  profanity?" 

"Yes,"  said  John,  smiling;  "the  description 
fits  him  exactly,  especially  the  profanity  part  of 
it.  I  don't  know  that  I  ever  heard  any  one  that 
could  'cuss  out'  the  fever  the  way  he  did.  You 
seem  to  have  known  him." 

"Yes,"  said  Bill,  "I  knew  him  all  right.  Him 
263 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

an'  ol'  man  Granville,  Whitey's  uncle  thet 
kicked  off  las'  spring,  was  great  chums.  This  here 
Babcock  used  t'  come  t'  th'  ranch  'bout  once  in 
so  often,  an'  him  an'  th'  ol'  man'd  set  into  a 
game  o'  pedro  er  seven-up  till  all  hours.  Thet's 
how  I  knowed  'bout  Babcock's  cussin'  —  ol' 
man  Granville  bein'  consider'ble  of  a  card- 
player.  Babcock  was  to  th'  ranch  jes'  before  he 
come  into  th'  mount'ns  this  time." 

Bill  stopped,  and  John  waited  for  him  to  con 
tinue.  "Yes,"  he  said,  finally,  ''you  undoubt 
edly  know  him,  but  what  has  that  to  do  with  his 
title?" 

Bill  did  not  speak  immediately.  At  last  he 
said,  "Mr.  Moose,  yo'  paid  me  th'  compliments 
o'  sayin'  yo'  regarded  me  es  a  fair-minded  man. 
I  am  goin'  to  say  th'  same  thing  in  regards  t' 
you." 

"Thank  you,"  said  John,  gravely. 

"An'  yo'  thinkin'  me  fair-minded,  an'  me 
thinkin'  yo'  th'  same,  an'  this  here  bein'  a  gold 
mine  we're  talkin'  'bout  —  not  somethin'  triflin', 
like  four-bits-wo'th  o'  smokin'-t'bacco  —  I'd 
like  t'  hev  yo'  come  over  t'  th'  ranch  an'  look  at 

264 


WHITEY'S  SURPRISE 


somethin*  I  c'n  show  yo'.  I'll  go  'long  with  yo* 
so  't  yo'  c'n  be  shore  I  ain't  cookin'  no  frame-up 
onto  yo'." 

John  smiled.  "As  far  as  that  is  concerned," 
said  he,  "I  have  no  fears  that  you  will  *  frame 
me';  so  if  you  will  tell  me  what  it  is  you  want  me 
to  see,  maybe  that  will  make  a  trip  to  the  ranch 
unnecessary.  I  suppose  it  is  something  relating 
to  Babcock,  and  possibly  affecting  the  title  to 
the  mine  ? " 

"Both  them  suppositions  is  correct,"  said 
Bill:  "an'  while  I'd  a  heap  sight  ruther  yo'd  go 
an'  see  thet  it's  all  reg'lar  —  an'  es  far  es  thet 
goes  y'  c'n  come  any  time  an'  verify  whut  I'm 
sayin'  —  yet  'f  yo'  want  t'  take  my  word,  here 
she  is:  OF  man  Granville  hed  a  way  o'  grub- 
stakin'  a  lot  o'  people.  Seems  like  the'  was  a 
passel  of  'em  thet  must  'a'  lived  off'n  him  by 
thet  process  of  extractin'  somethin'  fer  nuthin'. 
All  any  one  o'  them  hombreys  hed  t  'do  was  t' 
come  t'  th'  ranch  an'  smooth  th'  ol'  man's  fur 
th'  right  way  —  tell  him  whut  a  fine  ranch  he 
hed  an'  set  into  a  game  o'  pedro  er  seven-up  with 
'im  —  an'  th'  ol'  man'd  loosen  up  an'  stake  'em. 

265 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

t'  most  anythin'  they  asked  fer — 'outfit  'em 
complete,  like  as  not.  Mebbe  some  of  'em  was 
on  th'  level,  but  the'  wa'n't  a  doubt  'n  th'  world 
thet  most  of  'em  jes'  went  prospectin'  down  t'  th* 
Junction  —  prospectin'  t'  see  whut  they  c'd  git 
fer  th'  outfit! 

"But  thet  didn't  make  no  difference  t*  th'  oP 
man  —  he  went  right  along  doin'  it  —  cuss  a 
little,  mebbe,  when  he  found  out  he'd  bin 
trimmed,  an'  r'ar  'round  fer  a  spell  an'  swear  he'd 
never  do  it  ag'in  —  an'  when  th'  nex'  one  come 
'long,  dern  'f  he  wouldn't  come  acrost  jes'  th' 
same.  He  liked  comp'ny  so,  'specially  anybuddy 
thet  'd  play  seven-up,  thet  he'd  lend  'em  money 
t'  play  with  ag'in'  himself! 

"But  this  here  Babcock  wa'n't  thet  kind.  He 
war  Scotch,  er  somethin',  an'  he'd  ruther  go  out 
prospectin'  whar  he  knew  he  couldn't  find  nuthin' 
than  not  go  prospectin'  a-tall !  Prospectin'  shore 
are  a  disease,  an'  ol'  man  Babcock  hed  a  bad 
case  of  it.  He  come  t'  th'  ranch  las'  spring,  an' 
him  an'  ol'  man  Granville  hed  a  extry  long  ses 
sion  o'  seven-up,  an'  then  ol'  man  Granville  give 
him—" 

266 


WHITEY'S  SURPRISE 


"You  mean,  of  course,  that  before  leaving  for 
these  mountains,  Babcock  signed  some  paper 
giving  Mr.  Granville  a  share  of  whatever  he 
found?"  said  John,  a  little  wearily. 

"The  same!"  said  Bill.  "Fifty-fifty  — Bab- 
cock  insisted  on  doin'  it,  'count  o'  hevin'  been 
grub-staked  onct  er  twict  before  an'  him  not 
bein'  a  grafter.  Ol'  man  Granville  showed  me  th' 
writin',  an'  most  laughed  his  head  off  'bout  it; 
allowin'  as  how  he  let  Babcock  draw  it  up  jes'  t' 
humor  him.  An'  he  outfitted  th'  ol*  cuss  some 
complete — was  the'  any  o'  Babcock's  tools  layin' 
'round  when  he  quit?  Did  yo'  find  'em,  Crow- 
ley,  when  yo'  took  possession  ? " 

"Shore,"  said  Crowley.  "I  done  my  work 
with  'em  —  leastways  th'  tools  thet  was  here  — 
I  dunno  nuthin'  'bout  Babcock." 

"They  are  probably  here  now,"  said  John  Big 
Moose.  "Nothing  has  been  carried  away.  Do 
you  want  to  see  them,  Mr.  Jordan  ? " 

"Only  fer  this  reason,"  said  Bill.  "'F  this 
here  mine  was  located  an'  worked  by  this  per- 
tic'ler  Babcock  on  the  grub-stake  thet  was  giv' 
him  by  ol'  man  Granville,  yo'll  find  th'  pick 

267 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

an*  shovel  an'  sech  is  all  marked  with  th'  Bar  O 
brand." 

It  required  but  a  few  moments  for  John  Big 
Moose  to  have  the  tools  brought,  and  there, 
plainly  marked  upon  them  all,  was  the  brand  of 
the  Bar  O! 

"I'm  not  a  lawyer,"  said  John  Big  Moose, 
"but  as  the  case  stands,  it  would  seem  to  me  to 
make  half  the  mine  belong  to  the  heirs  of  Mr. 
Granville  and  the  other  half  to  the  tribe  as  heirs 
of  Babcock." 

"I  don't  see  how  it  c'n  be  figgered  no  differ 
ent,"  said  Bill;  "but  them  lawyers  sometimes 
figgers  out  things  pecul'er.  Tho'  I  can't  see  thet 
the'  no  call  t'  let  a  lawyer  git  his  hooks  in  onto 
it  anyway,  'less'n  Crowley  here,  who  'pears  t'  hev 
drawed  a  blank,  wants  t'  go  t'  lawin' — which  I 
take  it  he  don't."  And  Bill  turned  to  Crowley. 

"No,"  said  Crowley,  grinning  sheepishly;  "I 
reck'n  'f  law'll  let  me  alone,  I  won't  bother  none 
with  it!" 

"Mebbe  thet's  a  good  way  t'  look  at  it,"  said 
Bill,  smiling.  "In  thet  case  th'  ain't  nuthin'  but 
the  two  heirs  t'  go  in  cahoots  an'  split."  Bill 

268 


WHITEY'S  SURPRISE 


called  to  the  two  boys  who  were  talking  a  little 
apart.  "Wha'  d'  y'  say,  Whitey?  I  reck'n  yo' 
an'  Mr.  John  Big  Moose '11  haf  t'  work  th'  mine 
as  pardners,  pervidin'  them  arrangements  is 
agreeable  t'  yo'r  pa." 

Although  Whitey  had  caught  snatches  of  the 
talk,  now  and  then,  he  had  not,  until  that  mo 
ment,  realized  that  the  Granville  share  of  the 
property  reverted  to  his  father,  and,  in  that  way, 
indirectly  to  him.  He  was  staggered  by  the 
thought,  but  quickly  recovered,  and  without  any 
hesitation  said,  "Where  does  Injun  come  in  on 
that  arrangement?  If  it  hadn't  been  for  him 
I  wouldn't  ever  have  heard  of  the  mine,  prob 
ably!  He  was  the  one  that  spotted  the  Crows, 
and  it  was  he  that  suggested  our  following  them. 
I  guess  he's  entitled  to  as  much  as  I  am!" 

Bill  and  John  Big  Moose  and  the  ranchmen 
looked  at  the  two  boys  and  then  at  each  other, 
and  a  smile  of  genuine  approval  broke  over  all 
their  faces. 

"Dog-gone  'f  thet  ain't  pretty  square!"  said 
Walker.  "  I  ain't  saw  many  people  handin'  gold 
mines  'round  thataway,  not  this  season  I  ain't!" 

269 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

"These  here  —  now  —  Si'mese  twins  ain't 
got  nuthin'  on  them  two  kids!"  said  Bassett, 
admiringly.  "  I  reck'n  they's  got  some  sech  idee 
'bout  bein'  pals  like  them  three  Frenchmen  hed 
into  one  o'  whoozis's  books  —  I  wouldn't  make 
no  stab 't  speakin'  their  names  — '  all  f er  one,  an' 
one  fer  all ! '  I  seen  'em  in  a  movin'-pitcher  onct, 
an',  b'leeve  me,  they  was  some  gang!" 

"I  would  like  to  say  to  you  men,"  said  John 
Big  Moose,  "that  I  have  never  seen  or  read  any 
thing  more  wonderfully  loyal  than  the  way  this 
Indian  boy  stuck  to  his  friend  when  things 
looked  pretty  bad  for  both  of  them.  He  had  all 
the  chance  in  the  world  to  run  away  —  get  off 
with  a  whole  skin!  In  fact,  I  advised  him  to  do 
it  —  almost  compelled  him  to  do  it  —  but  he 
scorned  the  thought,  and  started  back  to  what 
he  must  have  believed  to  be  almost  certain  death 
rather  than  desert  his  white  friend!  And  I'm 
mighty  glad  to  see  it  appreciated!" 

"Good  ol'  Injun!"  said  Bill  Jordan,  putting 
his  arm  about  the  boy,  affectionately.  "It 
don't  s'prise  me  none,  though;  an'  I  reck'n  it 
don't  s'prise  none  o'  th'  boys  o'  th'  ranch!" 

270 


WHITEY'S  SURPRISE 


"You  said  it,  Bill!"  agreed  Walker.  "Us  fel 
lers  seen  th'  pair  of  'em  perform  before!'* 

"Wai,"  continued  Bill,  "I  reck'n  the'  won't 
be  no  complaint  on  'count  o'  Mr.  Sherwood 
not  doin*  whut's  square  by  Injun,  him  bein' 
some  partial  to  th'  kid  hisself.  So  'f  things  is 
satisfact'ry  t'  Mr.  Moose,  here,  I  dunno's  the's 
anythin'  more  t'  be  did  —  leastways,  not  by  us, 
though  I  s'pose  him  an'  Mr.  Sherwood '11  hev 
t'  git  t'gether  an'  hev  things  drawed  legal,  th' 
handlin'  of  a  gold-mine  bein'  some  different 
from  sellin'  a  coupla  steers." 

"The  more  I  think  of  it,"  said  John  Big 
Moose,  "the  better  the  arrangement  appears, 
because  the  tribe  would  have  not  only  the  moral 
support  of  you  white  men,  but  undoubtedly  Mr. 
Sherwood,  when  he  is  assured  of  the  great  value 
of  the  mine  as  I  am,  will  advance  the  money  to 
develop  it  properly." 

"Seems  to  me  we  are  forgetting  one  thing," 
said  Whitey.  "Where  does  Mr.  Crowley  come 
in  on  all  this?  Perhaps  he  hasn't  got  as  good  a 
claim  as  Mr.  Moose  and  Injun  and  I,  but  I  can't 
see  him  getting  frozen  out  entirely!  I  should 

271 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

think  he'd  fit  in  somewhere,  for  he  has  had  a 
good  deal  to  do  with  our  outfit,  in  one  way  or 
another,  and  I  guess  it  was  a  pretty  good  thing 
for  me  that  he  was  at  the  Cross  and  Circle  that 
time  that  Ross  had  me!" 

Crowley  lifted  a  protesting  hand:  "Kid,"  he 
said,  "I  reck'n  ef  th'  account  was  balanced  be 
tween  yo'  an'  me,  it  wouldn't  take  one  o'  them 
expert  account'nts  t'  find  thet  I  owed  yo'  quite 
some,  a'ready!  I  guess  yo'  consider'ble  more  'n 
got  even  fer  whut  I  done  fer  yo' — which  wa'n't 
nuthin'  t'  speak  about,  anyhow.  An'  while  I 
shore  appreciates  yo'r  good  intentions  an'  tenders 
yo'  my  thanks  fer  them  same,  I  reck'n  thet  I  ain't 
rightly  in  onto  this  here  deal,  me  not  havin' 
anteed.  An'  besides,  I  reck'n  yo'r  pa  is  th?  real 
owner  o'  th'  half  thet  don't  b'long  t'  th'  perfess 
and  his  friends,  an'  he  may  hev  some  idees  'bout 
disposin'  o'  chunks  of  it.  I  ain't  doubtin'  mebbe 
he'll  consult  yo'  some  as  regards  to  it,  but  out 
side  o'  declarin'  Injun  in  —  which  same  does  yo' 
credit  —  I  reck'n  I  wouldn't  do  nuthin'  more  till 
yo'  hear  from  him." 

"Crowley,"  said  Walker,  "them  is  shore  words 
272 


WHITEY'S  SURPRISE 


o'  wisdom,  but  I  want  t'  say  thet  ef  it's  some 
sight  t'  see  somebuddy  handin'  out  gold-mines 
it's  sure  some  t'  see  guys  refusin'  'em!" 

"Wai,"  said  Jordan,  grinning,  "ef  this  here 
mine  turns  out  like  th'  perfesser:  seems  t'  think, 
I  wouldn't  be  s'prised  'f  the'  was  'nuff  to  go 
'round  among  th'  boys  so  't  each  one  could  git 
hisself  a  new  Stetson,  mebbe,  an'  a  few  bags  o* 
smokin'!" 

It  was  broad  daylight  by  this  time,  and  while, 
in  the  excitement  of  the  foregoing  hours,  the  men 
had  forgotten  to  be  hungry,  now  that  things 
seemed  to  be  pretty  well  adjusted,  they  suddenly 
remembered  that  they  had  such  things  as  stom 
achs.  When  this  matter  had  been  attended  to, 
Bill  rose  and  took  up  a  pick  and  a  shovel. 

"What's  doin',  Bill?"  asked  Bassett.  "Yo' 
goin'  out  an'  get  yerself  a  gold-mine,  too,  this 
mo'nin'?" 

"No,"  said  Bill,  "I  wasn't  aimin'  t'  do  thet, 
but  I  reck'n  Pedro  hes  done  laid  out  thar  in  th' 
open  pollutin'  th'  atmosphere  'bout  long  'nuff. 
'T ain't  fair,  as  th'  perfesser  says,  t'  let  th' buz 
zards  run  a  chanct  o'  gittin'  pizened." 

273 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

"  I'll  go  'long  with  yo',"  said  Crowley,  rising; 
"yo'  may  need  a  little  help." 

"  'Tain't  likely  't  none  of  us  guys  is  goin'  t'  set 
here  an'  let  George  do  it  • — •  es  th'  feller  says," 
put  in  Bassett;  and  so,  the  entire  outfit  of  white 
men,  accompanied  by  Injun,  set  out  over  the 
mountain  to  attend  to  the  burial  of  Pedro. 

They  found  the  body  where  they  had  left  it, 
and  dragged  it  to  one  side  where  the  soil 
seemed  to  offer  a  more  yielding  surface,  and 
Crowley  sent  the  pick  into  the  ground  with  a 
powerful  stroke.  He  had  repeated  this  not  more 
than  three  or  four  times,  when  Bill  Jordan  pushed 
him  away  and  got  down  and  examined  the  earth 
that  had  been  turned  up. 

"  Crowley,"  he  said,  calmly,  looking  up  at  the 
man,  and  holding  a  small  portion  of  the  earth 
in  his  hand,  "I  reck'n  yo'  don't  need  to  be  de 
clared  in  on  nuthin',  'cause  yo'  've  found  a  gold 
mine  fer  yerself!" 

As  may  well  be  imagined,  this  caused  some 
excitement  among  those  present.  A  close  ex 
amination  of  the  soil  turned  up  by  Crowley's 
pick  revealed  the  fact  that  there  were  very 

274 


WHITEY'S  SURPRISE 


strong  evidences  that  he  had  struck  a  surface 
vein.  How  much  this  would  amount  to  remained 
to  be  seen.  Under  all  the  circumstances,  it 
seemed  best  to  Bill  Jordan,  and  to  the  others 
when  he  proposed  it,  that  some  of  the  men  should 
remain  at  the  "gold-fields,"  as  the  men  now 
called  them,  and  that  the  rest  should  go  back  to 
the  ranch  where  Mr.  Sherwood  might  be,  any 
day,  and  take  his  advice  upon  the  proper  course 
for  them  to  pursue.  The  services  of  an  expert 
mining  engineer  would  settle  the  question  as  to 
how  the  mines  should  be  worked,  and  whether 
they  were  of  sufficient  richness  to  warrant  the 
erection  of  a  big  plant.  It  was,  therefore,  deter 
mined  that  Crowley,  Bassett,  and  Buck  Higgins 
should  remain  to  stake  out  and  protect  the 
claim,  with  the  assistance  of  the  Dakotas  that 
had  come  with  John  Big  Moose.  The  latter,  it 
was  deemed  necessary,  should  go  to  the  ranch 
for  a  conference  with  Mr.  Sherwood  in  regard 
to  the  claim  that  they  owned  jointly,  and  to 
make  such  arrangements  for  its  development  as 
the  expert  examination  warranted. 
By  the  time  that  Pedro  had  been  buried  away 
275 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

from  the  vicinity  of  the  vein  found  by  Crowley 
—  "The'  ain't  no  cert'nty  thet  he  wouldn't  spile 
it"  —  and  the  other  arrangements  were  com 
pleted,  it  was  well  on  into  the  afternoon.  But 
there  was  a  ten-  or  twelve-mile  journey  back  to 
the  camp  where  Whitey  and  Injun  had  left  their 
horses,  and  the  little  outfit,  consisting  of  Whitey, 
Injun,  Bill  Jordan,  John  Big  Moose,  and  Walker, 
set  out,  the  two  boys  mounted  on  horses  loaned 
them  by  the  Dakotas,  promising  that  they  would 
be  back  within  a  week's  time. 

The  trip  back  was  uneventful,  although 
Whitey  prevailed  upon  Bill  to  go  around  on  the 
westerly  side  of  the  mine  to  get  the  skins  of  the 
two  bears  that  had  fought  it  out  before  the  rock 
with  the  boys  as  spectators.  The  bear  that  had 
treed  them  was  there,  all  right,  but  a  thorough 
search  revealed  the  fact  that  the  second  bear  had 
probably  managed  to  crawl  away,  for  he  was 
nowhere  to  be  found. 

The  fate  of  this  contributor  to  the  drama  was 
left  unsolved,  for  these  two  bears  chased  the 
Indian,  nearly  drowned  Crowley,  and  caused 
the  boys  to  dance  like  monkeys  on  a  hot  brick 

276 


WHITEY'S  SURPRISE 


perched  high  upon  a  rock.  Which  of  the  two 
bears  played  the  more  important  role  is  left  to 
the  reader. 

Whitey  watched  the  process  of  skinning  the 
bear  with  great  interest.  When  it  was  com 
pleted,  Bill  said,  winking  at  John  Big  Moose, 
"Now,  Whitey,  seein'  't  we've  got  him  skim, 
I  s'pose  yo'  'd  jes'  as  leaf  carry  th'  skin  back 
t'th'  ranch?" 

"Sure!"  said  Whitey,  starting  to  pick  it  up. 
Right  there  Whitey  got  a  surprise;  a  big  bear 
skin,  such  as  the  one  he  took  hold  of,  will  weigh 
in  the  neighborhood  of  one  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds  or  more!  And  Whitey,  at  last,  came  to 
the  conclusion,  game  as  he  was,  that  if  the  bear 
skin  had  to  be  carried  back  by  him  it  could  stay 
where  it  was.  Jordan,  however,  managed  to 
pack  it  onto  one  of  the  horses,  Injun  gladly 
agreeing  to  walk  as  the  going  was  very  rough. 

They  reached  the  little  camp  in  the  clump  of 
woods  at  the  base  of  the  mountain  along  late  in 
the  afternoon,  and  camped  there  for  the  night. 
On  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day  afterward, 
they  rode  into  the  ranch  yard  to  find  that  Mr. 

277 


INJUN  AND  WHITEY  STRIKE  OUT 

Sherwood  had  already  arrived  and  was  badly 
worried  about  them.  Of  course,  it  took  some 
time  to  tell  all  of  the  story;  but  to  come  back 
from  the  East  and  find  himself  a  part  owner  in 
a  gold-mine  was  a  novel  experience,  according 
to  Mr.  Sherwood.  And  then  followed  a  series  of 
conferences  between  Mr.  Sherwood  and  John  Big 
Moose  and  Bill  Jordan;  but  before  the  week  was 
out,  everything  seemed  to  be  settled  and  the 
return  expedition  awaited  only  the  arrival  of 
the  mining  engineer  before  setting  out.  Then 
it  was  that  a  bombshell  was  thrown  into  the 
camp. 

"  Son,"  said  Mr.  Sherwood  to  Whitey,  when 
the  latter  came  to  him  one  day  with  Injun  in 
regard  to  certain  preparations  for  the  trip  back 
to  the  mines,  "  do  you  know  what  month  this  is  ? " 

"Sure!"  said  Whitey.   "October." 

"Right!"  said  his  father.  "And  doesn't  that 
mean  anything  to  you?  Do  you  consider  that 
your  education  has  been  finished?" 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  I've  got  to  go  back 
to  school?"  moaned  Whitey  in  a  most  forlorn 
way.  "Just  when  things  are  happening  and 

278 


WHITEY'S  SURPRISE 


we've  got  a  brand-new  gold-mine  to  'tend  to  — 
and  everything  like  that!" 

"I'm  afraid  I  do  mean  just  that/'  answered 
Mr.  Sherwood. 

"Why  can't  I  wait  and  enter  at  Christmas  — 
after  the  holidays?  I'm  already  a  month  late, 
now.  I  can  study  out  here.  You  ought  to  see  the 
lot  that  Injun  and  I  have  been  doing  in  that  line. 
I've  been  teaching  him,  and  he's  learning  fast. 
It  would  be  easy  for  me  to  study  at  the  same  time 
that  I'm  teaching  him." 

"  If  it  would  be  of  any  advantage  —  in  case 
you  decide  to  let  Whitey  stay- — •"  said  John  Big 
Moose,  "possibly  I  might  be  able  to  guide  him 
in  the  branches  that  he  wishes  to  take  up.  I  have 
had  some  experience  in  that  way  before." 

"It  ain't  none  o'  my  affair,  Boss,"  said  Bill, 
"but  'f  yo'  look  thet  Whitey  over  careful,  I  think 
yo'  '11  be  'bilged  t'  say  thet  this  here  little  trip  hes 
did  him  a  power  o'  good.  He's  growed  like  a 
weed,  an'  he's  stronger  'n  a  yearlin'  bull.  'Co'se,  I 
ain't  sayin'  thet  he'd  oughta  stay,  but — I'm  jes' 
thinkin'  thet  he's  doin'  right  well  whar  he's  at." 

THE  END 


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